#done tagging spoilers because its been a while since it came out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

princessasmosprincess · 1 year

Text

Sunkissed

Summary: After a fun day at a Human World beach, the brothers realize they're sunburned.

Characters: The demon brothers and GN Reader/MC (it could be Asmodeus x Reader if you squint because this is my fic and hey, you're the one who came to the Asmo kissing blog).

Genre: Sickfic (kinda), humor, fluff

Warnings: Canon-typical sibling on sibling violence, sunburn, nonsexual nudity, mild canon-typical innuendo, no major spoilers but MC is in possession of a certain object they obtain in season 2.

***

“I might have to get rid of that new toner we bought, MC,” said Asmo as he held the door open for you. “My face hurts.”

“Really? My skin feels fine.” You’d known demon skin to be stronger than your own in most cases, so this was perplexing.

Asmo had purchased the toner with you only three days ago from a Human World store famous for selling the most exclusive skincare. It had gone viral online despite its steep price tag, so naturally Asmo had to buy it.

Asmo gasped. “You don’t suppose it contains holy water, do you?”

“That’s not really a common skincare ingredient in the Human World,” you said.

“Humans don’t use it to purify their skin?” He asked.

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh. “But maybe there's something else in the toner that doesn't agree with your skin, let’s take a look at the bottle.”

“Ok! I’ll go get it. And while I'm at it I’ll prepare a bath for the two of us,” He slipped his arm around your waist, leaning into you with his charming smile.

“Maybe…” you said, bumping him gently with your hip.

“We can even try out those bath salts I brought back for you, wouldn't that be nice?”

You had to admit a relaxing bath did sound nice right now. You and the brothers were just coming in from a day at the private beach Diavolo owned in the Human World. The beach was protected by a magical barrier, cloaking it from anyone not authorized to be there. You and the brothers were free to do whatever you wished, including using magic.

It had been a very full day. In the morning you'd surfed a little with Beel, needing to relearn most of what he’d taught you before. And then as soon as you got back to shore, you’d been pulled into a water fight “to the death” that had begun when Satan dumped a handful of sand down Lucifer’s rash guard while he was resting in the shade. You’d mostly been used as a shield between Satan and Mammon against Lucifer. You didn't really mind, though, since you got to see Lucifer's conflicted expression every time he faced you; not that it had really saved you in the end, you’d ended up soaked anyway. Then, Asmo had whisked you away to collect shells in the water with him, with the assistance of mercandy. You’d so enjoyed being merpeople together on your last beach trip that this was truly a treat to experience again. In the water you’d gotten to watch Levi swimming with Lotan, from a distance, of course. Satisfied with the shells you’d collected, you and Asmo dragged yourselves back onto the beach and fell asleep under the umbrella with Belphie, completely exhausted from all the swimming you’d done. You hadn't woken up until the sun had shifted and you were no longer in the shade. At the end of the day, you and the brothers got to watch porpoises breaching in the distance as the sunset lit the sea in shades of pink and gold.

You were grateful the beach Diavolo had lent you came with a vacation home (more like a mansion) just steps away from the shore.

“I call the first shower!” Mammon declared, kicking off his flip-flops.

Levi grabbed his arm before he could run up the stairs. “No, I get the first shower. There’s a raid starting in an hour and I want to login early.”

“Too bad, little bro,” Mammon wrenched his arm out of Levi’s grip. “Hierarchy says I get to go first since I'm older.”

“Really, Mammon, if that’s the case then I’ll be taking the first shower.” said Lucifer.

The three oldest brothers shared one of the mansion’s bathrooms, while the youngest shared another (minus Asmo, since Barbatos had set up a portal to his bathroom at the House of Lamentation). You had your own private bathroom as well, but you didn't mind letting the brothers use it from time to time. It seemed like that would be happening tonight if you ever hoped to have a peaceful dinner.

“One of you can use my bathroom tonight,” You left the three oldest brothers in the foyer to argue, now that an offer to use your bathroom was on the table. You needed some water, you were starting to get a headache, you’d probably had too much sun.

Beel was already in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something. Belphie was nearby, sitting at the kitchen island as he rested his cheek on the cool marble counter.

“We’ll have dinner soon, Beel, I just need a drink of water and I’ll get started cooking.”

Beel tossed you a water bottle before grabbing one for himself.

“Can I have a snack while I wait?” He bit into a nectarine, coming to lean against the counter.

“Well you’ve already started.” You teased. You took a long drink of water, mentally checking off all the ingredients you’d need to start dinner. Hopefully one or two of the brothers would agree to assist you, it would go much faster with help.

Beel rolled his cool water bottle against his neck, “I think I missed a spot when I reapplied my sunscreen,” he said. “Can you take a look for me?”

“Sure,” you slipped off the sunglasses you were still wearing as Beel turned around for you. “Oh, Beel I think-”

A blood-curdling scream tore through the mansion.

“Wha-” Belphie woke with a start.

You took of running upstairs, towards the source of the scream. You and the twins were the last to arrive at Asmo’s bathroom.

Asmo threw himself into your arms. “Oh, MC! I’m hideous!” He began to cry. His face was red everywhere except where his sunglasses had been, leaving a white impression of their shape behind, “I don't know how you can bear to look at me!”

“Asmo, you’re not hideous,” You stroked his hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“I’m not?” He sniffed.

“Not at all, you’re just a little…” You trailed off as you looked around the room. Lucifer, Levi, Satan, Beel, and Belphie (in addition to Asmo) were all severely sunburned. Several of them had already begun to shift uncomfortably. “You’re all-”

“MAMMON WHAT DID YOU DO?” Satan roared. Judging by the dark aura surrounding him, he was about to shift into his demon form.

“Wha’da’ya mean, what did I do?” Mammon ran to hide behind you for protection.

“Clearly this is your fault,” he seethed, the aura beginning to dissipate a little since you were in front of him, but his eyes were on Mammon, “We’ve been cursed, you probably wronged some Human World witch and now we’re all paying for it.”

“While that does sound like something he’d-” Lucifer began.

“You’re not cursed,” said Mammon, cutting him off. “You just have a sunburn.”

Satan paused. “You're saying this happened because we were outside in the sunlight?”

“Yeah,”

“Is this true, MC?” He looked at you.

You nodded, “It happens to some humans, too.”

“I did remind you to reapply your sunscreen earlier, Satan.” said Lucifer.

Satan growled. “I didn't think it would actually do anything. I’ve never had a sunburn before.” You noticed the new freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. He would have looked so adorable if not for the anger glowing in his eyes.

“Really?” Beel asked.

“Me and Beel and Asmo used to get sunburned all the time when we snuck down to the Human World.” said Belphie.

“That was before sunscreen existed,” Asmo added. “I would never go out without putting it on now. Earlier I just–” He burst into tears again.

Belphie ignored him, continuing to talk to Satan, “You’ve been here a fair amount and it’s never happened?”

“I’m typically summoned to the Human World at night.” Satan answered flatly. “As are most demons, I’d wager.”

“Satan, your poor, virgin skin!” Asmo sobbed.

“My what?”

“Did anyone remember to reapply?” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling that even he hadn’t remembered after the water fight, and then he’d even removed his rash guard, exposing himself further.

“I remembered, and I also put some on Belphie’s face,” said Beel. “But we got burned anyway,”

“What sunscreen did you use?” You asked.

“This one I got from Mammon,” Beel handed you his bottle of sunscreen. You read the label, it was 20 years past its expiration date and the brand name was misspelled.

You shot Mammon a look over your shoulder.

“Must’a got mixed up with my newer stock– uh, purchases.” he lied.

You looked around at the demons in front of you. All six of them were varying shades of red. Satan and Levi seemed to be in the worst condition as they’d been in full sun for most of the day. Asmo, Lucifer, and the twins hadn’t fared much better despite taking advantage of the umbrella’s shade. You could feel the heat of Asmo’s skin on yours, plus more warmth radiating off of Satan. It had to be so painful.

Satan turned back to you and Mammon. “Why don't you two seem to be affected?”

“I don’t get sunburns,” Mammon smirked before ducking behind you again when Satan turned his glare on him.

“Father blessed him with a golden tan complexion,” Asmo pouted. “He was like that when we were angels, too.”

“And you, MC, are you immune like Mammon or do you have some sort of talisman against the rays of the sun?” Satan asked. “I don’t understand how a human could be unaffected when we are all suffering.”

“I don’t have any special talismans, I put on sunscreen before I went outside just like everyone else,” You looked down at your arms. You hadn't been sunburned at all, and you hadn't reapplied your sunscreen either. Your eyes caught on the gold ring you wore on your finger.

“You might have been protected by my Ring of Light,” Lucifer said with a small smile, echoing your thoughts almost exactly.

The others nodded. It was a very powerful magical relic.

“Well now that we've cleared that up,” Satan said through thinly veiled rage. “How long is this agony supposed to last? It feels like spiders are crawling all over my skin.”

You really didn't want to tell him. Judging by the severity of his sunburn it might be… “A week?” you said. “Sometimes it takes longer. But most of the pain occurs in the first few days or so.”

Satan looked like he was about to explode with rage or drown Mammon in the bathtub. Maybe both.

Lucifer cut in before he could do anything. “As we are demons, our cell turnover is faster than humans, which will shorten our recovery time. It will be about 48 hours until we fully heal, I’d estimate, but that also means we’ll be feeling the worst of it tonight.”

***

You sent the sunburned demons downstairs to the living room, directing them to ice their skin while they waited, so you and Mammon could collect supplies. The mansion was well-stocked thanks to Diavolo and Barbatos preparing it for you ahead of time, but only with Human World essentials. They had wanted you to feel right at home. You doubted the brothers kept very many potion ingredients in their rooms, and definitely not anything that could give relief from a sunburn.

You had Mammon fetch the first aid kit from the kitchen cabinet while you looked through Asmo’s and Lucifer’s skincare collections to see if they had any skin-soothing products. When you were finished, the two of you deposited your loot on the living room’s coffee table. Mammon had found a tiny tube of lidocaine cream, one packet of colloidal oatmeal, and a small jar of aloe gel. You’d come up with a bottle of unscented body lotion and two small tubes of expensive healing ointment; you’d also found a half-full bottle of demon-strength ibuprofen in Lucifer's things, which would definitely be needed to get through the next couple of days. These were your only supplies. You might be able to get the aloe gel to stretch between your six sunburn victims but it would be pretty scarce. As for everything else… you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

Asmo and Beel got started slathering healing ointment and lotion on Belphie who was whining in his sleep.

You scooped some aloe gel into your hand so you could administer care to Satan as Mammon did the same with Levi.

Satan started reciting cat poems under his breath as you rubbed the cool gel into his skin as gently as you could.

“MC, there’s a bottle of Demonus in the basement fridge.” said Lucifer. He sat next to you, his perfect posture rigid, as if moving at all would cause him immense pain. “When you have a moment, please go get it.”

“Demonus would be really nice right now,” Asmo hummed, pressing a generous amount of healing ointment onto his own cheeks.

You gave a sympathetic smile, “You both know that’s just going to dehydrate you and make your skin feel worse.”

You knocked two ibuprofen into Lucifer’s palm as consolation. He gave you a look, taking the bottle from you. He poured out four more into his hand and then passed the rest to Asmo.

SMACK

Levi screamed at the top of his lungs.

“MAMMON!” You and Lucifer yelled at the same time.

You rushed to Levi’s side only to see the perfectly white handprint of Mammon’s slap contrasting with his lobster red skin. Levi began to cry, inhaling a ragged breath as tears started streaming down his face.

“He insulted me after all I’m doin’ for him?” Mammon defended himself. “He called me a scumbag!”

“Go help Lucifer,” you snapped.

“Ok, ok, I’m goin’.”

Levi couldn’t catch his breath, his shoulders convulsing as his sobs came out in a silent cry. It was a bit disturbing.

You gently placed your hand on the handprint. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated.” A gold flash sparkled under your hand as you recited the spell. Levi slumped against your shoulder, breathing once more. For once, he wasn't embarrassed that his bare skin was touching yours.

“Are you ok?” you asked him.

He sniffed a few times, still shaking, “The pain from the slap is gone but my skin still feels like it’s on fire,” he said, wiping away a tear.

You had a feeling the healing spell wouldn't be strong enough. It had been worth a try, though.

“MC,” Satan called your attention from the other side of the couch. “The aloe gel has dried and the infernal itching has returned.” He squirmed in his seat.

“Here, try this,” Mammon slid an ice pack over Satan’s shoulders.

“THAT’S MAKING IT WORSE!” Satan tore the ice pack from Mammon’s hands, throwing it at his face and knocking his sunglasses off.

“Ow!” Mammon rubbed the red mark just beginning to bloom on his cheek.

You sighed. This was proving more difficult than you’d expected. There wasn’t enough aloe gel to apply on each brother twice. You needed to come up with a solution.

“Is there any chance we can use a duplication spell on this?” You slid the jar to Mammon, who was still holding his cheek in pain.

He picked up the jar and scanned over the ingredients list. “There’s too much stuff in here, between the two of us we might end up with somethin’ similar but there’s also a chance it’ll make everything worse. I ain’t Lord Diavolo.”

You looked at the dwindling supplies on the table. Asmo and Beel had already exhausted the first tube of healing ointment. “That means we can’t duplicate any of that, either?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m hungry,” Beel complained.

Right. Everyone still needed dinner.

Lucifer handed you his credit card before Mammon had a chance to register what was happening. “Just buy anything we need. Supplies, takeout, I really don’t care right now.” He picked up the tube of lidocaine cream and squeezed the entire contents into his hand, rubbing half of it into his own chest and the other half into Satan’s shoulders.

Well, that certainly made things easier. You turned on an animated movie for them to watch while you and Mammon went to the kitchen. You picked a random takeout menu that was stuck to the fridge and ordered meals for everyone, and Mammon sat at the island and searched Akuzon for sunburn relief products on his D.D.D.

“Does Akuzon even deliver to the Human World?” You asked as you hung up the phone.

“They do for demon lords,” said Mammon as he added another item to the cart. “Levi pays for the premium shipping rate so they deliver anywhere.”

“You’re using Levi’s account?”

“Got locked outta mine…”

You sat next to him, helping him choose the best products to heal his brothers’ damaged skin. Lots of aloe gel and healing ointment, analgesic products too. You also purchased a balm that was supposedly infused with magic to speed up the healing process. The bill would be several hundred Grimm but you didn't think Lucifer would mind, considering the circumstances.

“We got three hour delivery, we just gotta keep ‘em happy ‘till then.” said Mammon.

“NO!” Asmo shrieked from the other room, right as the doorbell rang.

“That’s probably the food,” Mammon sighed, “Do you wanna find out what Asmo’s problem is or should I?”

You pressed your hand to your heart, your pulse still racing from being startled. “It would be better if I went to him,” You were less likely to start a fight between the brothers just by entering the room.

Mammon went to answer the door while you returned to the living room.

“Is everything alright?” You asked tentatively.

“Everything is not alright,” said Asmo. “How dare those disgusting eels tip over their boat, Ariel was just about to get her true love’s kiss!”

You breathed a sigh of relief. It was just about the movie.

“Mmm, eel…” Beel was almost drooling.

“Would the kiss have even worked?” Satan mused. “How could it be true love, Eric just barely learned her name and they’ve known each other for two days.”

“I wonder,” you smiled.

“Come sit with me, darling,” Asmo pulled you onto the couch between him and Lucifer, nuzzling into you, his skin still feverishly warm, “This movie is wonderful. Have you seen the sea witch’s makeup? I should try something like that for fun, don’t you think? It’s such an iconic look.”

They all seemed really into it, which left you pleasantly surprised. Satan was trying to figure out if the story would end the bittersweet way the original fairytale did, Lucifer argued that it wouldn't be appropriate for a children’s movie to end tragically; their conversation was very lighthearted and almost academic. Levi was using his tablet to draft cosplays of various characters from the film, asking you who you wanted to be. Beel was commenting about all the fish he’d like to eat every time they appeared onscreen, while Belphie hummed along to the score. Mammon brought in the food and then everyone was glad to eat while finishing the movie.

There wasn't a dry eye as the credits rolled after Ariel finally got her happy ending with her prince. Not even yours. A mermaid leaving her family to live with her true love in another realm, the irony wasn't lost on you.

“That was great,” said Mammon, dabbing at a tear with a handkerchief, “Should we watch another?”

Belphie’s shoulders shook as he cried quietly.

“What's wrong, Belphie?” Beel asked as all eyes turned to the youngest.

“M-my skin st-still h-hurts,” he hiccuped.

You were worried about that. They’d all been distracted by the movie for a while, the pain was bound to kick in once it ended.

“I’m starting to feel it again, too.” Lucifer popped a few more ibuprofen capsules.

“How much longer until the delivery, Mammon?” You asked.

He checked his D.D.D. “They’re a hundred stops away, should get here by ten.”

“That's two and a half hours from now,”

The brothers began to complain. You didn't blame them, they were still suffering, but it was starting to give you a headache on top of the one you already had. You needed to placate them and clearly Disney movies weren't enough.

They'd used up all of the supplies, the empty containers littering the table. All that was left was the packet of colloidal oatmeal. You picked it up.

Ingredients: Colloidal oatmeal 100%

“Everyone upstairs to Asmo’s bathroom,” you instructed. You took Mammon by the wrist and led him to the kitchen.

“Now what?” He asked.

“This has only one ingredient,” You held up the packet.

“So we can duplicate it. Good idea, MC!”

Mammon helped you locate a large mixing bowl and you emptied the packet into it. You both waved your hands over the bowl, reciting the duplication spell in unison. You had to repeat the spell six times to have enough for what you needed to do.

When you got upstairs, the brothers were all standing around the bathroom looking very uncomfortable, Asmo had already started filling the tub.

“Everyone needs to strip,” you tossed each of them a towel.

The room broke out in half-hearted groans. You were sure if their faces weren't so red from sunburn, most of them would have been blushing.

“It’s nothing I haven't seen before,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“What?” Mammon’s gaze shot to you.

“Nothing…” you gave an innocent smile.

Mammon crossed his arms, muttering something to himself.

“I c- I can’t strip in front of my brothers!” Levi whined.

“It’s no different than bathing at the hot springs,”

“Yeah but I usually–”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you really in a position to be complaining, Leviathan?”

“N-no…” Levi sniffed.

“MC, look over here, ” Asmo cooed, winking. “I can strip for you, like a good boy.” He swayed his hips, dropping the towel from his shoulders. “Doo doo-doo doo-doo doo doo doo,” he was singing his own sexy background music.

You just stared at him.

Asmo bent down, giving you what was supposed to be a sensual smile, his lips curved wobbly and his eyes were hazed with pain and unshed tears as he moved. But the show must go on, as they say. “Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” He tossed his hair, sliding his hands to the waistband of his swim shorts, beginning to roll them down. “Touch me, tease me, feel me– AHH!” He screamed as the fabric brushed against his inflamed skin.

“Asmo!”

His swim shorts dropped to the ground unceremoniously, as he writhed in pain. Everywhere the shorts had previously covered was porcelain white. He squeaked, picking up the towel to cover himself. This was not how he wanted you to see him.

The others followed suit in a less dramatic fashion, all stripping out of their swimwear, some more bashful than others for being naked in front of you. You and Mammon dumped the contents of the bowl into the tub, allowing the running water to mix it around.

“Get in,” you said.

And they obeyed.

There was just enough room for the six of them to fit in the tub comfortably. They all relaxed in the warm water, their skin finally feeling soothed. They were quiet. Belphie fell asleep right away, and Satan’s eyes no longer glowed with barely concealed rage.

You sat down on the padded bench next to the tub, your muscles untensing at last, Mammon passed you a water bottle and a single demon-strength ibuprofen, just enough for a human headache.

“Thanks,” you took it, sinking deeper into the bench’s soft cushion.

“I’m gonna go put some music on,” he said.

“Sure, go ahead,” You said, your eyes slipping closed.

When Mammon returned with the portable speaker, you were fast asleep.

“Shh…” said Lucifer.

Mammon set the speaker down and lifted you into his arms.

“Thank you, MC,” the brothers each whispered as Mammon carried you off to your bedroom for a well-deserved rest.

“Sleep well,” said Mammon.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #asmo obey me #asmodeus obey me #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #levi obey me #leviathan obey me #satan obey me #beel obey me #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #belphie obey me #obey me fluff #obey me sickfic

551 notes · View notes

sunmoonjune · 4 months

Note

Oh my gosh I can’t believe I’m so late to the party but I finally had time to read Spring Tides and ohhhhhhh myyyy gosh!!!!

1. I’ve missed your universe so much! I’m about to reread all of ltm again because I’ve missed it so much and this was such a wonderful treat that I didn’t realize I needed!

2. Wooyoung finally got rid of the shackle! I’m so happy to see the little sunshine finally put it behind him and be free! He absolutely deserves it!

3. Man, tattooed Ateez really is my weakness I loved hearing about what tattooed they all have! I love how they’re connected to each other (or they’re not and I’m horribly wrong) like it’s so adorable and wholesome!

4. I love love LOVE Bug talking more and getting used to her voice again! The way you talk about her voice getting better and her getting used to it more made me smile so big my cheeks hurt. The sound I let out when she laughed and took her mask off wasn’t human I swear! I was so happy to see it and it’s so deserved! Bug deserves all the happiness in the world and I’m happy she has Ateez to bring her that happiness.

You have once again done such an amazing job with writing and I really hope life is treating you well! 💖💖

Also I saw your author’s note and could I please be added to the tag list? If not that’s completely fine! Thank you in advance! 💖💖💖💖

omg spooky!! it's been a while lovely I'm so glad to see your user in my inbox <33

hehe I'm so happy you liked spring tides and another look into the ltm universe! I too was missing bug and the boys so I was very excited to release it <3

yes!! woo gets rid of the shackle! this is technically a bit of a spoiler but I couldn't help but throw it into the oneshot too see how many ppl would notice OoO but it will be addressed in the future >:)

tattooed atz!! I actually had all their tattoos planned from the beginning of atz (except a few) and just... forgot to write about them tbh xD but yes!! a bunch of their tattoos are linked to each other! ESP woosan (their matching tattoos in ltm drive me and loren BONKERS I swear we talked about them for like two whole days) but every member of atz has some kind of tattoo in ltm and I'll start slipping in references to them as the story goes on xD

bug using her voice <33 I didn't want to jump straight into her using it completely because I honestly see her continuing to use the language of touch and sign more commonly than her voice since she's spent a significant portion of her life selectively mute,, but I also wanted to show that with a lot of time and healing, being able to speak was something she became more comfortable with <3 she truly does deserve the world tho omg I've never loved one of my own characters more <3 :")

I'm so so happy you liked the oneshot!! It makes my day to get asks like this so thank you so much dear <33 and I think you're already on my taglist for ltm! unless I'm mistaken (I could be its been a long time :')) ) if you didn't get tagged when spring tides came out let me know and I'll see if I messed it up!

#moonie speaks #like the moon #moonie's favs <3

12 notes · View notes

gingersnapwolves · 2 years

Text

so I got tagged by @cinematicnomad to pick my top 5 fics, and I thought, this is an outrage! I’ve got 99 fics on AO3 alone! though granted I wouldn’t pick anything not on AO3 since my old stuff is ... not great ... but anyway how I could pick 5? So since I missed fanfic writer’s appreciation day yesterday I decided to appreciate myself, bend the rule, and change the prompt to .... give your favorite fics awards!

Best Epic:

The Sum of its Parts (1.2 million | T | Teen Wolf | Sterek, Scallison)

What started as a simple "fork in the road" AU became a series and ate my life.

This obviously had to be on the list somewhere but it’s barely a fanfic anymore, it strayed so far from the source material! I adore every word. Well, most of the words.

Best Smut:

Get Off (Me) (77K | E | Teen Wolf | Steter)

Stiles hates being left behind with Peter while the pack is fighting monsters, because he never knows exactly what Peter will get up to.

Boy did I have fun with this one. Dubcon smut turns to consensual-but-not-safe-or-sane smut turns to ‘wait did we catch feelings wtf’ smut.

Funniest:

The Lost Cause (18K | T | The Untamed | NHS + JGY)

AU in which Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao work together to take down Jin Guangshan from the beginning.

Or: the story in which Nie Huaisang just wants to paint fans and feed birds and he doesn't understand why this is so much to ask.

I may live to be a hundred and never write anything funnier than “you have a praise kink!”

Best Roast of the Source Material:

Adult Wolf (232K | T | Teen Wolf | Sheriff/Peter, Sterek)

As if Sheriff Stilinski doesn't have enough to deal with, now he's been attacked by some enormous dog in the forest, and that's normal compared to what happens next...

Re-telling of seasons 1-3B with Sheriff Stilinski being bitten instead of Scott.

230K words of me writing a strongly worded letter to the writers of Teen Wolf on all the things they could’ve done better. I enjoyed it.

Best Tearjerker:

picking up the pieces (111K | M | The Untamed | LWJ + JYL, WWX/LWJ)

The AU where Jiang Cheng dies at Nightless City instead of Jiang Yanli and she takes her son to raise at Lotus Pier. She and Lan Wangji bond over losing Wei Wuxian and raising their children, and over time, they start to have suspicions about what happened at Qiongqi Way....

This is probably the most poignant thing I have ever written. The whole thing is woven with grief and love. The scenes between Lan Wangji and A-Yuan still make me a little teary-eyed when I think of them.

Best Romance:

An Atypical Courtship (48K | M | The Untamed | LXC/JGY, WWX, LWJ)

Meng Shi dies with her debt to the brothel unpaid, and the madam decides Meng Yao needs to work it off for her. Eight years later, Lan Xichen meets him at Koi Tower.

I generally don’t write a lot of pure “romance”, so I’m really proud of how this one came out. The whole fic is just so soft and loving.

Best Post-Canon:

you’ll never walk alone (21K | T | Not Me | Black + White, Sean/White)

If Black got his way, he would never go back to Gumpa’s garage.

Spoiler alert: Black does not get his way.

Sometimes I finish watching a series and so desperately crave more that I just write a couple more episodes for them, free of charge. This one is probably my favorite of that variety. I just want Black to be happy, damn it!

Best Overall:

What Goes Around (71K | M | Teen Wolf | Sterek, but the relationship at the heart of the story is the father-son relationship between Peter and Stiles)

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”

It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.

Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

This might be the best fic I’ve ever written. It’s probably better than most of my original work. I love everything about it, especially the way I used outside sources like news articles and forum posts to show the passage of time. It’s just really good and I’m very proud of it.

Who else wants to give themselves some awards? I don’t really like tagging people but anyone else is welcome to steal the format and shower love upon themselves!

#fic stuff

73 notes · View notes

ninjagirlstar5 · 11 months

Text

Protag Teruya AU - Prologue Part 1 - The Beach Intro

Finally deciding to post snippets of the prologue of the Protag Teruya AU! I’m getting closer to finishing the prologue in it’s entirely so once that is done, I’m gonna post it on AO3 and then share it from there. The Tumblr parts will be cut up and shorter than the updates on the AO3 for those who prefer shorter and more digestible updates. The AO3 version is for those who like to sit down for longer reads.

No TWs apply to this current post.

Prologue Part 2 Beginning

Next Acts: [Act I] The Price of a Forged Bond

[Edit]DISCLAIMER: So, I’ve been discussing things with some mutuals and I decided to update the tags and formally put up this disclaimer. If you read the tags, you’ll notice I put the Sannotori tag (although Teruya won’t be reciprocating just yet). I just wanna put this up as I want to be honest with ya’ll. I know Sannotori isn’t really well-liked due to canon events of SDRA2 between Teruya and Mikado (which makes sense since Mikado is literally the mastermind and Teruya wouldn’t like him at all and considering Chapter 5...yeah, I can tell this ship is usually problematic). At least, from what I can tell. But while I love the enemies to lovers trope, especially when it comes to these two, their relationship in this is nothing like the canon dynamic as Mikado isn’t as bad as he was in canon and that the ship will be in this AU. So I will be using the Sannotori tag going forward, especially whenever their dynamic is in the Tumblr update.

The Protag Teruya AU was inspired by @/anotherprofessional’s post! Beware of Void spoilers though!

It all felt like a dream.

It had to be, because he couldn’t believe what had happened.

What happened…?

He — wasn’t sure. He couldn’t — think.

It was just — hard.

Hard to breathe.

Hard to think.

It was cold.

And yet, he felt hot.

With no one there to comfort him.

All alone in this suffocating place.

This couldn’t be happening.

He can’t let this be happening.

He made a promise to them.

A promise to himself, for all the pain he’s been put through…

It hurts.

It…

hurts…

H e l p.

-♥-

“Sir…?”

He twitched.

That was the first thing he sensed in his mind.

The second thing was the sounds of something crashing and rolling against the ground.

‘Waves…?’ His mind supplied, with an instinct reminding him that something was wrong.

“Sir.”

He cringed, his face scrunching up at the loud sounds.

Something coarse and dry was underneath him, uncomfortable and yet warm. Almost comfy with the heat beaming down on him.

“Sir!”

He grit his teeth at the sound of the voice. He wanted to keep lying down on the ground. Which was sand. Definitely sand, yeah. When he finally gave in and opened his eyes, light burned bright in his vision and he had to close them again. Something soft brushed along his forehead and it encouraged him to open his eyes one more time, squinting as he let his vision adjust. A bright blue sky greets him with the sun beaming down on him. But that wasn’t the only thing that met his gaze.

A man was kneeling over him with a strange white mask with its amused, almost mischievous expression painted over in red. If he wasn’t already laying down on the ground, he would’ve leaned away from the frightful image before him. The cape and hat did nothing to lessen the effect of the man’s appearance, with a sun emblem attached to the hat and a clasp keeping his cape around his shoulders. And then the mask blinked and he felt his heart drop in his stomach.

“I believe it is rude to stare, sir.” The man’s voice was deep and masculine, kindly in tone but still creepy with the way his mask shifts as if it were speaking. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was awkward sounds that couldn’t form words. The mask blinks again before shifting into an entirely different expression of its own free will: awkward concern. “Ah, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Y…Y-Yes…” His own voice was a lot more awkward than he expected, but it was his and he accepted it. He thought it was rude to admit it, but he’d rather put as much distance as he can from the man before him. And that mask was not helping, with the way it moves like an actual face. With that one word, the man puts distance between them, lifting his face away from his own.

“I apologize. I sometimes get a little too close to others despite being quite picky with touch.” The man then scratches at the back of his head, the cape lifting with the movement to reveal his outfit underneath. Which was a lot more simple compared to the eccentric creepiness of the mask and strange cape and hat combo: a white button-up with unbuttoned cuffs and white gloves, a double-sided orange tie, black trousers and brown slip-on shoes. The mask suddenly changes to look more cheerful with an open mouth and pointy eyelids, and he lifts both of his arms up. “Ah, perhaps I should give you a demonstration of my magic!”

“Your…magic?” He could feel a bit more strength coming back to his voice and his muscles, to the point that he decided to test out his body. It wasn’t all that difficult to prop up his elbows and lift himself up slightly. The mask looked pleased.

“Yes! And it’s nothing like those parlor tricks those fake magicians do to entertain. Mine is very much real, mister…?” He trails off, tilting his head as he puts down one of his hands onto his lap. It took him a moment to realize that the man was asking him for his name and he hesitated. He didn’t want to give away his name to this stranger, let alone one that claimed to specialize in magic. What if he steals it with his magic? His name is important, it’s his identity, he…

…he’s drawing a blank.

He sat there, trying to search his brain for something, anything that resembled a name. Something to call himself so people would know who he is. Anything that would fit just right for him.

And yet, nothing.

“I…I can’t remember.” His eyes widened and he raised his tanned hand to his face. At least his body felt familiar but anything else about himself didn’t feel right. No, he felt nothing at all. Just one big blank in his memories and a past that had slipped away from him without another word. It was then that the panic started to settle in. “I-I can’t remember! I can’t, I can’t…!”

“Sir, calm down, please.” The man beside him moves to settle his hands on his shoulders, his mask morphing into its own wide-eyed expression. He flinched at the touch and tried to lean away but the man didn’t let go. He instead squeezed him in a surprisingly gentle way, his thumb rubbing circles into his shoulders. He hesitates, his brain telling him to distrust the stranger before him. But his gut wanted the comfort the man was offering and he quickly caves in to his feelings. He took deep breaths to calm himself and once he did, he raised one of his hands to hold the man’s. The mask blinks at the touch before he quickly pulls away, once again putting space between them. He blinked his own eyes in surprise at the reaction. “…Now that you’ve calmed down, we can continue our discussion. You said you can’t remember. Do you mean your name or…?”

"I…" He swallowed. "I can't remember anything."

Not his name.

Not his family.

Not his friends.

Not even his own home.

He knew the concepts of all of those words, but it's like his brain discarded any memories or meaning by forgetting everything that could relate to them.

It was frustrating.

And it was upsetting.

A sound of flames appearing and disappearing greeted his ears and he looked up to see the man holding out a handkerchief. He sniffled and realized his eyes had watered to the point of shedding tears. Fully embarrassed, he mutters his thanks before taking the handkerchief and rubbing his eyes.

"You may keep that if you'd like." The man said gently, his mask somehow softening up its expression. He wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. "It seems you have amnesia and for that, I’m sorry for your loss of identity. I'd suggest a name, but perhaps I should leave that to you?"

"Please." He said it without thinking. But now that he did, he realized he didn't want a random stranger to name him whatever they wanted. He wanted the choice to choose for himself, even if it was only a temporary name. The mask blinked at him and he realized he should probably clarify. "Please let me choose. At my own pace."

"Very well!" The man then claps his hands together. "Ah, I should introduce myself! I am the great Mikado Sannoji, the Ultimate Wizard that bends the very forces of nature to his will!" He spreads his hands out in a dramatic fashion. And, against all odds, it made him snort at the sight. The mask turns back into its cheerful smile. "Ah, there's a smile! I do hope we get along, sir."

"Uh…me too." He said a bit awkwardly. He still found the man, Mikado Sannoji, strange but he was friendly enough and seemed to care about his lack of memories. He sat up, looking around with his gaze as he took in the warm sand, the ocean waves crashing against the beach and palm trees swaying in the wind. It was very warm here, not necessarily sweltering but it was enough to get him to fan his face with his hands. "Are we…on an island?"

"Oh, an astute observation! At least you seem to be functioning well." Mikado said, and he couldn't help but side-eye him with slight annoyance. The wizard just scratched the back of his head with his mask shifting into a more goofy expression. It even stuck its tongue out somehow! "Do not take offense, that was merely a compliment. Do you wish to meet the others?"

"Others?" His eyes widen and he brings his legs closer to himself. "There are other people here??"

"Yes. I passed by them but I didn't feel like talking to them. Too many people can feel…suffocating." Mikado's mask shifts into a more downtrodden and flat expression, the eyelids nearly closing together. "But I suspect that the group must have dispersed at this point. All that will be left is us and our own introductions."

“I…see.” He sat there for a moment to take in the information. There were people nearby, which might mean they could know him. Perhaps even give him a hint of who he is and what his name was. But if they didn’t know who he was, then all he can do is integrate himself into the group as best as he can until he can see a doctor for his amnesia. Hopefully, he could recover his memory in full once he does. “Then, I’ll join you.” He slowly gets onto his feet, his legs aching as if they haven’t been moved in forever. But despite the soreness he was able to stand without much trouble. Mikado followed him up and it was then that he realized that the wizard looked to be almost a half a foot shorter than him. His mask then shifts into a grin.

“Would you like a mirror? It’d be a shame to let your handsomeness go unaware.” Mikado leaned forward, his tone of voice registering in his head which only made him baffled. Flattered, but baffled. He didn’t think now was the time to be flirting with each other. He just realized he has amnesia and lost so much in just the span of a few minutes.

…Still, it’s not like he remembers what he looks like. The best he could see was the clothes he wore and the color of his skin, but nothing of his face.

“...Sure. I’d like one.” He said, slowly nodding. Mikado eagerly rubbed his hands together.

“As you wish, my dear.” The wizard raised his hands and did the unthinkable.

His hands glowed red and the sand between them rose and burned from the flames that formed before him. His eyes grow wide at the sight of magic, literal magic, being performed right there in front of him. And before he knew it, the sand Mikado was bending with the fire dancing from his fingers formed into a thin, clean sheet of glass that reflected an image of a person. It took him a little longer to realize that the man standing before him was himself.

The man had grown out silver hair, his bangs framing his round angular face below his chin and covering his forehead. He had a pretty tall ahoge, probably a few centimeters at least, and his hair was tied into a low ponytail that hung off the side of his head. He blinked his green eyes, round and almond-shaped and his tanned skin was dotted with freckles all over his cheeks and arms. He wore a red shirt that had its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a collar that reached his sternum, showing off his collar bones and a decent amount of skin. Gray trousers that were rolled up above his ankles, dark brown flats with a light brown ribbon tied around them and a black short-sleeved jacket that had a collar and two buttons that had a happy face and a sad face with a rainbow sewn onto its bottom. Just seeing that rainbow brought a smile to his face. He also had pilot goggles strapped to his head and a blue scarf wrapped around his neck, which somehow brought pangs of sadness in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder why. He also had a small light brown backpack, and bits of jewelry on him like the green beaded necklace, different kinds of bracelets that were red, blue, black and gold on one wrist and a golden wristwatch on the other.

All things considered, despite the inappropriate timing with Mikado’s flirting, he did look pretty handsome. And clearly he had pretty good taste in fashion, so at least he wasn’t walking around like he was some sort of disaster. Or worse, butt naked.

That would’ve been so much more awkward.

Unfortunately, his clean appearance did nothing to give him any hints of what he’s been through before he lost his memory. He didn’t even look like he had washed up on shore after surviving a shipwreck. Unless his bag…

He hastily took off his bag, ripping it open to reveal–

–absolutely nothing.

“What? That’s it??” He even turned the bag over for good measure, just to see if anything would fall out. But alas, nothing came out. It was as empty as his eyes perceived it.

“…I see. Not even a wallet was left behind. Which could be its own dilemma, but one thing at a time.” Mikado said, once again rubbing the back of his head with a downer expression on his mask. He just slumped his shoulders and accepted that an easy answer wasn’t just going to fall onto his lap. He puts the bag back on and Mikado’s mask smiles again and drops his arms. It’s almost creepy with how wide the smile was. “Now, let us make our way to the cruise ship.”

“The what??” He gaped. He had a feeling he knew what a cruise ship was but his brain was coming up with a blank on what one looked like.

“Fufufu, never been on a cruise ship before?” The wizard’s mask stuck his tongue out. “Actually, neither have I! Nor do I remember getting on one either.”

“You…don’t?” The information that was just casually dropped onto his lap suddenly made his stomach turn. Mikado’s mask shifted from goofy to serious in a matter of seconds.

“Yes. And while I haven’t spoken to anyone personally, I did overhear the group discuss how they got here as I left. It seems that no one else knows why we’re here or how. Which seems to spell trouble for us all…” Mikado trails off, staring at his paling face. “But like I said before, one thing at a time. Let us introduce ourselves and then gather the group together to one spot to exchange information. How does that sound?”

“That…” He gulps, trying to push down the anxiety in his throat. “That sounds like a good idea. Where should we gather the group?”

“Hm…The cruise ship has a dining area. We can use that.” Mikado then gestured with his hand to follow him. He did since he didn’t have a better plan than this. He glanced at the water as it ascended and descended across the sand and he can’t help but wonder where in the world he could be. The lack of memories only made him even more nervous. There was a sign nearby that gave him the name of the island though: Utsuroshima, The Isle of Nowhere.

He feels a sense of deja vu settle onto his shoulders, but it was accompanied with a feeling of dread. Why, he didn’t know. But he kept his guard up as he followed Mikado to the ship.

Which was absolutely huge.

The ship was docked along the shore, painted in a bizarre way that somehow reminded him of a bird, albeit one that was half white and half black. Words were painted on the side of the ship and it read out “Monocruise.” He still felt very uneasy at what’s going on, but it didn’t change how magnificent it all looked.

“Whoa…” He said, gaping at the sight. Mikado chuckled at his reaction and walked up to the bridge. Up ahead was someone with ginger hair in a brown and gray school uniform, seemingly staring at the door with their hand against it. He tilts his head at the sight, wondering why that person was simply standing on the bridge and not going inside. He quickly matched his pace with Mikado and called out. “Hey, aren’t you going to head inside?” The person jolted at the sound of his voice and turned around-

Messy hair and bored eyes stared down at him as he spoke words that filled him with a crushing sense of despair. He could only stand there and stare back, unable to come up with a rebuttal as he smiled almost in satisfaction.

Cruel, despairing satisfaction.

And he felt like his entire world was uprooted with that single betrayal.

“-are you okay? Hey!” A voice, light but masculine reached his ears and it sounded more like concern than cruelty. He blinked his eyes, ignoring the way the sweat rolled down his forehead and the pit in his stomach growing ever more. The young man before, who couldn’t be older than a freshman in high school, had hair that was far neater with the way it curled and wore a simple brown blazer, red tie, white button-up with a tan vest, gray pants and brown slip-on shoes. And yet, everything about him just felt off, like a bunch of red flags had been thrown in the air yelling ‘don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t trust him.’

“Sir? Please answer the question. You look pale.” Mikado stepped into his view but didn’t get any closer to him, as if he was giving him space. It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging wide open and he snapped it shut. He gulps.

“S-Sorry, I, uh…” He struggled to form words. He wanted to be honest and tell them how he really feels, but everything in his mind was telling him to keep his distrust a secret. That this is someone he couldn’t trust with himself. But…still. He had to ask. “Have we…have we met before?”

“Er…no. I’m sorry, I don’t think we have.” The young man looked him up and down for good measure before awkwardly smiling. “I mean, I feel like I’d recognize you by how you dress alone.”

“Yes, you certainly stand out with that hair and garish rainbow on your jacket.” Mikado said as blunt as a brick and he gasped. But he didn’t feel offended. If anything, he felt like he was taking it in stride, like this is a pretty normal response.

“Hey, I think I look pretty great!” He puts his hands on his hips with a pout. The young man smiled a little.

“I mean, it’s not a bad look, but you certainly stand out. Ah!” The young man scratches his cheek. “Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Yuki Maeda, this year’s Ultimate Lucky Student.” He instinctively cringed at the name, clearly ringing a bell but once again, any sort of memory he tries to reach out for slips through his fingers like sand. Yuki blinked his eyes but seemed to have dropped it for the moment.

…Hold on a minute.

“‘This year’s ‘Ultimate Lucky Student?’ What does that mean…?” He asked, his confusion clearly written on his face. Yuki’s eyes go wide in surprise while Mikado’s expression flattens as if he had just come to a realization.

“Y-You don’t know? Hope’s Peak Academy is famous around the country!” Yuki exclaimed, raising his hands. He felt a jab of shame at not knowing even common knowledge like this. Although it did sound familiar…and yet he felt a mixture of fondness and detest. He felt like a confused, floundering mess.

“Perhaps I should have mentioned this sooner. Our fellow student currently has amnesia. He doesn’t even know his own name.” Mikado spoke up, his mask shifting to one of sympathy, his eyes downturned and his mouth shifting into a squiggly frown. He lifted his hand up to press his fingers against his mask. Yuki, on the other hand, looked a lot more embarrassed.

“O-Oh! I’m sorry, I, uh, didn’t know.” He just sighed and slumped his shoulders with a nod. As much as he didn’t want to admit it upfront, he knew it was inevitable if he can’t even introduce himself. Yuki just tried to smile awkwardly. “Would you like it if I told you more?”

“Uh, yeah, that would be helpful. Thanks, Yuki.” He tried to give him his best smile but it didn’t shake off the anxiety that clung to him.

“Well, Hope’s Peak Academy is a world-famous school that has produced many famous and talented people in its long history. A school that only the best, most talented students get to attend. It isn’t an exaggeration to call it the ‘School of Hope.’” Yuki starts his explanation, and the more he talks, the more familiar this school sounds. Mikado formed a few tiny shards of ice, spinning them around to keep himself occupied. “There are two conditions to enter the school: one, you must be in high school. Two, you must be the best at your given talent. Only students who have been scouted to come to the school can attend…” He pauses before frowning. “And today was the first day of school.”

“That’s today?” He asked, blinking his eyes in surprise. He didn’t know the date, but if what Yuki’s said was true, then they should all be in school, right?

So…why were they here instead?

“Yeah, heh…” Yuki scratched his cheek, sweating a little. “Well, except for me. I just won a lottery.”

“Oh, lucky you.” The tease came to him without a second. Mikado snorts while Yuki blinks before grinning a little bit wider. It was then that the wizard let the ice fall into his hand before crushing it into dust.

“Now that you’re caught up to speed on Hope’s Peak Academy and what Ultimates are…Mr. Maeda, I am Mikado Sannoji, the Ultimate Wizard!!” Mikado exclaimed with dramatic flair and an excited expression, suddenly tossing up dust of ice into the air and–

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He and Yuki jumped at the sounds but the brief flashes of light and fire quickly soothed and delighted both of them. It almost looked like…fireworks?

Yeah, fireworks.

It was only a brief moment but it was a wonderful sight and drove home what Mikado’s Ultimate Talent was in just a few seconds.

“Wow, an actual Ultimate Wizard…? I didn’t even notice the ice you made.” Yuki said with wonder. Mikado just gave him a flat stare before shrugging and giving him a bow anyway. He then looked at him and he suddenly felt subconscious. “So, uh…what should I call you, mister…?”

“Uh, first of all, don’t call me mister. It makes me feel old.” He scratches the back of his neck. He knows he’s pretty tall but he didn’t look much older than Yuki. Or even Mikado, if he could see his face. “And secondly, um…I’d…like to come up with a name on my own. Okay?”

“Oh, okay! If you say so.” Yuki dropped his hand and started to mutter to himself. “Although I’ll have to figure out what to call you until then…”

“Moving on…What were you doing out in front of the Monocruise? You looked confused.” Mikado moved the subject onto something new. Yuki blinked his eyes before realizing what he meant.

“Oh, well…I tried to enter the Monocruise but…it seems to be locked?” The eyes of Mikado’s mask go wide.

“Locked?” As if to test the door himself, Mikado walked up and tried it. Only to get resistance as the sounds of the door jamming greets their ears. “Ah…a shame. So much for using the dining room to gather everyone in one spot.”

“Can’t you use your magic to get in?” He asked. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mikado could do that. Magic can do anything, right?

“Well, I can.” Mikado admits without a second thought, turning around with a shrug. His expression flattens. “But the mode of transportation I can use is only made for one person. If I tried to bring one of you with me, well…” His mask morphs into a sinister grin with sharp teeth. “You might lose a limb or two.”

“Uhhh, okay then. Good to know.” He said agape, sweat rolling down his forehead. Yuki looked similarly disturbed.

And then Mikado laughed, raising his hands up with his mask forming into his energetic smile.

“Just joking! Mostly. To be frank with you, I’ve never brought anyone with me when I teleport, so I have no idea if it’ll be safe for you.” Mikado’s mask softened into his regular, wide smile. The brief horror he felt quickly morphed into exasperation. Yuki tugged on his tie, looking like he couldn’t come up with anything to say to that. “...Wow, tough crowd. No matter. Do you have an idea of where we could gather everyone, Mr. Maeda?”

“Ah…Hmm…” Yuki raised a fist to his chin in thought. “How about the beach? There’s enough space here for…sixteen people and it’s not that far from the Monocruise.”

“Ah, the beach…the one I found our classmate here…That will do, thank you. Shall we leave you to your investigation and gather everyone in, say, two hours or so?” Mikado asked. Yuki was already nodding his head.

“I, uh, think that sounds good. I don’t have a watch though…” Yuki glanced at his wrist. He blinked, wondering why he would stare at it before looking down and remembering that, oh yeah, he was wearing a watch.

“Uh, sorry.” He smiles a bit awkwardly. “This is mine.”

“...I guess I’ll just guess the time with the sun’s location??” Yuki looked up at the sky, squinting his eyes. Mikado chuckled before turning on his heel and walking down the bridge.

“Come along, sir. I can see another classmate of ours from here.” Mikado said and he quickly followed after him once he said a quick goodbye to Yuki. Hopefully this classmate won’t give him a heart attack just by existing.

Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case as the man on the beach didn’t give him any sense of familiarity at all. But he definitely didn’t look like a student at just a glance. He had messy, wavy hair that was graying, tired gray eyes that looked a bit annoyed and a suit that looked very lazily put together. In fact, the white jacket wasn’t buttoned up at all, his black button-up had a few buttons unbuttoned down to his sternum, and a red tie that was so loose that he had to stuff it into his pocket. His white pants were rolled up, revealing hairy legs and was wearing black and white sandals instead of regular shoes. He seemed to be muttering something under his breath, thinking to himself underneath the palm tree. Mikado didn’t hesitate to walk up to him while he was a bit more nervous.

“Greeting and salutations! I am Mikado Sannoji, the Ultimate Wizard! And this is our fellow classmate.” Mikado said, gesturing to him as he spoke. He gives the man a friendly smile.

“Hi, uh…I’m kinda dealing with amnesia right now, so I can’t give you a name until I remember or come up with something.” He explains his current condition with as much nonchalance he could muster. The student, who is probably older than him, didn’t seem to have paid much attention to them. But he did stop muttering, so he must have heard them even as he continued to stare off to the side. They both waited, their stares drilling holes into him before his gaze finally snapped to them.

“What.” He said, clearly annoyed and having shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt a bit embarrassed, feeling like he was bothering his fellow classmate before him. Mikado, however, was nonplussed.

“You’re a fellow Hope’s Peak student, correct? We’re just-” The wizard gets cut off.

“I don’t know any of that crap.” He rolls his eyes, staring off into the sky as if it was way more interesting than the actual wizard and his fellow amnesiac classmate.

“...Really, now. Cause if you’re not from Hope’s Peak…” Mikado’s mask darkens. “Then that means that you may know why we’re here?”

“Huh??” He felt his anxiety spike up again and instinctively took a step back. The older person, however, snapped his gaze back to Mikado and glared at him.

“The hell are you talking about? I have nothing to do with this.” He points to the side of his head. “Here I was, thinking I could live a relaxing island life by myself…but it looks like I’m not alone. And I’m being accused of kidnapping a bunch of students that I really don’t give a damn about.”

“Oh, pardon me, then! You were clearly doing nothing of importance that I thought you were a classmate. Or even the foolish sap that thought it was a good idea to kidnap someone like me.” Mikado huffed with a haughtiness of someone who enjoyed being in control. Looks like he wasn’t very happy when the man put up resistance for a simple conversation. “If you’re just as stuck as the rest of us, a little bit of cooperation would be much more convenient for all, wouldn’t it?”

“And what do I get out of it if I tell you?” The man stuck his finger in his ear, and Mikado cringed at the sight. But his own reaction was different with his jaw hanging wide open.

This guy can’t be serious, can he?

“Wh-What does that mean? Shouldn’t we investigate together?” He spoke up, trying to get at least a little bit of helpfulness from him. But the man just shrugged his shoulders with a smarmy grin.

“Ehh, I don’t have a clue anyway.” The comment only accentuated his own bafflement. He didn’t think someone could be so rude in just a few seconds!

“Well, I never…! No matter your reason, you could at least give a name. Unlike my classmate here, you’re clearly not dealing with amnesia, are you?” Mikado spat it out like he was tasting something awful as he rubbed the side of his head. And he couldn't help but feel a little weird about the blatant mention of his predicament. Especially when it was used in a comparison like this. He was about to tell Mikado that much when the man turned away but kept his gaze onto him.

“Amnesia?” He asked and he looked like he was staring straight through his core. He tried not to shudder.

“Uh, yeah…I haven’t even come up with a name for myself yet…” He confirms. He can’t help but wonder if the guy had even paid any attention at all when they introduced themselves. “Uh, so, we’ve introduced ourselves to the best we could. It’d be polite if you give us your name.”

“...Hm, nah. That shit’s pointless info.” The guy rolls his eyes again before suddenly facing them with a grin. “Cough up a million and I’ll talk. Deal?”

“A million?!” Mikado exclaimed. In fact, his voice was so loud that he barely caught a glimpse of Yuki looking over at them from the beach out of the corner of his eye. Mikado raises his hands into fists and his mask shifts to one of flustered embarrassment. “Even wizards can’t create money out of thin air, you know!! And even if I could, why would I spend that much for just a name?!”

“Just a name? Damn, talk about harsh.” He cracks his neck just by tilting it before looking straight at him. He points to the side of his head again. “A person’s name is worth more than you think. Your name represents everything that you are. No point in wasting time on someone who doesn’t value that.” He then turned on his heel. “If you’re not up for that, scram.” And just like that, he walked away, leaving him with a dilemma that was growing every second.

“Hmph…Who does he think he is? I quite like my name, thank you very much.” Mikado said with a huff, crossing his arms before turning towards him. “Come on. He’ll have to give away his name at some point…”

“Did something go wrong?” He jolts and turns around to see Yuki, who had managed to sneak up to him. He gives him another smile. “Sorry, I noticed that the conversation wasn’t going well.”

“Ahem, yes, well…” Mikado trailed off, scratching the back of his head as he became even more embarrassed. “We didn’t get his name and he made a big deal about it. He even asked for money!”

“Wait…is that why you exclaimed ‘a million?!’ That’s way too much for a name!” Yuki gaped with wide eyes. He felt his mouth dry and he tugged on the scarf around his neck.

“...But he said that a name represents everything that you are.” He looked down at his feet. “And yet, I don’t even know that much.”

“Oh, dear…” Mikado’s voice softens but he doesn’t say anything else. Yuki, on the other hand, speaks up with his own thoughts.

“Um…I’m sure you’ll find out who you are eventually. Or maybe your memory will come back to you with time. Either way, a name…is something you should feel more comfortable with. Even if it isn’t your birth name, it’s something you should choose to keep.” Yuki said, awkward but comforting. The warmth in his chest felt familiar, but there was an undercurrent of unease. He was once again reminded not to trust this student beside him. But the words he said weren’t wrong. If anything, they were gentle and kind.

And he can’t help but take those words to heart.

“...Y-Yeah. Okay.” He gives Yuki a more genuine smile. “Thanks, Yuki. That makes me feel a little better.” He just needed to give himself some time. Even with their unknown situation looming over them all, it hasn’t even been a day and he’s been stressing himself out over his amnesia. Which is understandable, considering his own identity has pretty much gone ‘poof.’ Not even a wallet or an ID to give him an idea of who he is was left behind. He can’t imagine the kind of work he’ll have to go through just to get a legal confirmation of who he is and how much he’s lost in the time before and after he woke up on this island.

But, if there wasn’t anything he could do about it now, then why should he stress so much about it? At this point, he might as well be making a mountain out of an ant hill.

It didn’t mean that he didn’t want to find out who he was - who he is. But there was only so much he could do on an island in the middle of nowhere for the time being.

“Alright, where to next?” He turned to Mikado, a grin plastered on his face. The mask blinked at him before giving him his large smile.

“Well, I saw a large mart nearby during my walk. Why don’t we stop there? You probably haven’t eaten anything, have you?” Mikado said, turning on his heel to walk back the way they came. He was about to deny it but his body had the perfect timing of emanating a growl from his stomach. Yuki chuckled a little, which only made him even more embarrassed.

“I guess my next destination is the mart. I’ll see you around?” He waves and Yuki smiles and gives his own goodbye, going off to search for clues on his own.

#SDRA2 #Super Danganronpa Another 2 #Protag Teruya AU #Teruya Otori #Mikado Sannoji #Yuki Maeda #Syobai Hashimoto #Shobai Hashimoto #Sannotori but Teruya has yet to reciprocate #SDRA2 Spoilers #Terukado but Teruya has yet to reciprocate

8 notes · View notes

misqnon · 2 months

Note

hi, i just read all of ur posts tagged as misqnon's one piece liveblogging and it was so much fun T-T. im here to rant about one piece and im sorry.

i really love seeing people react to content i am caught up with and hold close to my heart.

i got into the 800s in the anime and stopped watching, took a break and then read the manga up to around 1060. but last month i decided to read the whole thing from the beginning and it is genuinely SO WORTH IT.

after u have caught up completely its super rewarding to go back and look at previous chapters bc its constant "oh my god look what was foreshadowed here??" and "now i understand the context behind this!!!" and "this interaction is so much more meaningful now that i know their relationship!!". yes it did take me a whole month of nearly nonstop reading to catch back up but i have 0 regrets.

wano and the arc after it are both super fun and interesting and i think ur gonna love it. the lore is crazy. i hope u dont see any spoilers bc going into it completely blind will probably be way more exciting, especially with the most recent arc since its kinda suspenseful and mysterious,,.

anyways thats all i have to say how do you end these things.. take care!!

AAAAA ANON THIS IS SUCH A FUN MESSAGE TO RECIEVE THANK YOU...

I ended up talking a lot so I'll put this under a cut lol

I used to be the person who said I would never watch one piece 😭😭 I've been into anime since I was like 12 and I'm almost 24 now (fuck . That's like half my life) and obviously it's always been on my radar but I always thought it was 1. Too popular 2. Too Long 3. Hated how oda draws women lmao so I was fine ignoring it and only knowing the basics from just Being On The Internet

I think sometime early on I caved and attempted to watch it- I got to alabasta and stopped bc the anime pacing wasn't doing it for me (though I liked it up until then, but didn't LOVE it)

cut to high-school where a couple of my good friends liked it but we never really talked about it, it was a lifelong interest for one of them bc he'd started reading it on like 4th grade

Well I'm still friends with them (shoutout to sam and seb) and they convinced me to watch one piece film red with them in like July or August of last year bc they were showing me the songs and I, ado fan bc I'm a retired weaboo and a vocaloid Stan, was like "haha that sounds like ado" and they went "IT IS!!!!??" so I had to watch it for her.

again, I was like oh this is fun I like this :^) but no IMMEDIATE interest, more of a passive thing... until the live action came out a month or so later and I watched it just because and DAMN I FELL IN LOVE FAST

I went back to the anime and rewatched the beginning, then skipped back to alabasta where I had left off years and years ago and now I'm Here 🧍

I watched up through part of dressrosa before I started reading the manga, and now I'm doing that while watching certain episodes of just the parts I really wanna see animated

It's been. So Fun

I am now that person who's like Hey You Should Watch One Piece. I get it now. I so get it lmao. And you know the weirdest part is that with it being divided up into arcs like it is I find myself thinking it really doesn't feel that long!?!? Am I insane,

anyways. It's been a while since I was in an active fandom or even in a fandom at all - ESPECIALLY such a big one!?! (I was in college for 4 years and Busy).

but it's. Crazy. I'm writing fanfics and joining discord servers and I've never done that before. it's been very fun and rewarding tbh...I don't like a lot of things about oda and aspects he included and ofc one piece isn't perfect or unproblematic but it IS a really awesome epic of a story about friendship and found family and anti authority and its just.

I'm also a person who's always loved reaction videos or just even seeing otherppl react to things I like so I RELATE AND IM SO GLAD I CAN BE THAT FOR U...

I'm ngl as I've been reading I've been wanting to look up some old one piece forums dated the time certain reveals happened bc I want to see how people felt as this shit came out holy Shit....

it's additionally funny bc this blog is about 10 years old and has amassed a decent amount of followers over the years who were just into some of the other random stuff I've been into but I know a fair amount of them were thinking we were on the same page of not being into one piece and now here I am. Ruining that. And with the pervert character as my favorite no less. lmao SORRYYYY YALL <3

I'll leave u with this message I sent into the discord I share with some friends the other day, none of which really watch op, when asked to explain something about the show. In fact, I think the reasoning for this message was BECAUSE I was explaining to a friend just how much oda foreshadows things!! jinbei, kaido, haki, sanjis backstory, ALL being mentioned by name or referenced DECADES/YEARS BEFORE APPEARING ON SCREEN...HUNDREDS OF CHAPTERS APART....I could rant on more but I'll stop for now.

thank u for the message and feel free to dm me to talk about this silly show anytime bc its sunken its claws into me 😭

#ive been saying since like thriller bark how excited i am to get caught up andYea. its even stronger now #misqnon's one piece liveblog #im going to be going insane as we enter wci and posting more reactions most likely so.#hope u emjoy that 👍#microphone effect #replies #asks #march anon

0 notes

natsukitakama · 3 years

Text

Headcanon : Attention feat Kazutora Hanemiya

author note : I was obsessed with this TikTok and couldn’t kick it out my mind, now I’m not sure if it’s actually his Seiyuu who is dubbed it but it sure felt like it. I can’t breath anymore lol. It feels good to be able to write ngl. Enjoy ♡

-->If you’re curious you can find the TikTok right here

Warning : SFW but I can make a NSFW version if you’re asking for it / It’s not Spoiler-free so if you didn’t catch up with the manga you’ll be spoiled I’m sorry but stay safe ♡

Masterlist

i do not own those pictures they came from Pinterest so credit to their owner

it's kinda short to my apologies I would do better next time

Kazutora Hanemiya 羽宮ハネミヤ一虎カズトラ

I can’t see him dating anyone before the time skip, even if we got proof that he was interested into people (we all see the way he was looking when he was at the beach). But during this time, he was a teenager more over he already a family, people who he cared about. He just didn’t feel the need to add a significant other, he has his family, he had Toman.

Now I’m not saying that he wouldn’t date anyone when he was a teenager but he was so focused on Toman on his family than I can’t believe he got time to date someone, especially since he was busy kicking ass with his friends Baji.

But no matter if you met him during his teenage, after he left the juvenile prison or when he left prison. You’re going to need some patience with him. He has lived a lot of things. He is still a broken man who is this close of loosing his entire mind.

I believe that I first you would be the only one working on this relationship, I mean you would do the whole flirty thing and at first he’ll barley interact with you. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel proud for your compliment and that he isn’t happy that you are interested in him. It just that everytime he felt close to someone, they either die or just left him.

He wasn’t sure if he was mentally, physically, emotionally ready for any kind of relationship

So yeah at first you would be the only to text/call first, you’ll be the only who is taking news might be the only one to think about where to go out together.

Most of the times you would feel insecure, after all he was so handsome maybe he just didn’t care about you ? Maybe you were bothering him ? Maybe he wasn’t interested in you and was just giving you a favor when he was answering back.

You would feel as if he didn’t care all as if your love was unrequited

But don’t worry about it, this situation wouldn’t last as long as you thought it would will.

His walls will finally shattered down and he’ll feel like he can finally be himself with you, showing you his insecurity, providing you all the love his broken heart got.

When this will happen, my my, you signed for the clingiest boyfriend of all time (top 3 at least)

I’m not kidding I just feel it, the boy got a lot of loves and needs to give and receiving (especially receiving).

You know those cliche movie where the boyfriend climb into your house so he could reach your bedroom ? He will do it, especially if he got free times and he felt lonely. Kazutora will just randomly climb into your bedroom and will knock at it with a lovely smile as if everything was normal (for fuck sake use the damn door baby boi).

He loves hugs whether he is the one who is been hugged of if you’re the one, either way he is fine as long as he gets close to you. Your warmth tends to relax him. He might even fall asleep if you’re stroking his hair or his neck (bonus point if you’re tracing the ink mark of his tattoo)

I feel like he loves kissing you too ? Like he just can’t stop kissing you ? He is an addict kisser. Like one day you were visiting him at the petshop dropping him a bento because you wanted to spoil your boyfriend. Even though he claimed to Chifuyu that he wasn’t tired 5min before you were here, suddenly he felt like he needs his 10min break. Guess who finds themselves being pushed against the wall as their boyfriends was kissing them deeply ? You. And he just didn’t kiss you once, no no that would be too simple, he will kiss you again and again one hand holding yours against the wall the other would be either on your cheek or on your neck. Good luck to find your breath after that. Believe me when I say that even when you were about to leave him so you could go back to school or whenever you were expected, Kazutora will take your hands in his to bring you against his chest to steal you a couple of kisses before finally leaving you.

Like I said he is an addict.

I can see him as the type to sometimes grab both of your cheeks with his hand and then kiss you, again and again.

He jus loves being close to you, so when you two are out for a date or just because you got the chance to meet him while you were going home. Kazu won’t hesitate and hold your hand stroking it with his fingers.

Holding hand is a minimum for him to best honestly

If he could he’d rather spend all of his time in your arms humming your smell getting warmth against you. But he can’t, so he is going to appreciate every occasion he got to get you close to him.

Since you’re his significant other Kazutora will be extra protector when it came to you, not afraid of threatening anyone that might be a bother to you.

Also he is jealous, he knows he shouldn’t feel like this especially since you’re always giving so much love and attention. But he can’t help but feel insecure, he knows what he is capable of, he knows his past, he knows what he has done, he is not perfect and certainly does not deserve love coming from such a piece of heaven like you. Yeah there would be time when Kazutora might be sad, feel down, and even though he’ll work on it so you won’t see it (afraid that you might be disappointed and will leave him) but you can tell that he is not feeling well.

Please, hold him tightly, tell him you love him, reminds him of much you cared about him, show him that there is no reason for him to be afraid. He just needs reassurance that you are here for good and that one day he wouldn’t wake up without you by side.

I just feel like he loves sleeping next to you, just the thought of sharing the same bed as him and getting the chance of waking up with you next to him is just his definition of heaven.

I also feel like is a tease, not on Mikey’s level, but I feel like sometimes out of nowhere Kazu will tickle you or whispering you something just to get to see your face turning red and then chuckle.

He is also the type to always give you his sweatshirt/coat, you don’t even need to be cold, if he noticed that you had been looking at his cloth or if you just compliment it boom its around your shoulder. It can be a way to show his possessiveness, like everyone would know that you belong to him who knows ? At least you won’t be cold.

He also the type to lay down on your bed and look at you with a loving smile, whether you were sleeping or not he doesn’t stop him from slightly stroking your cheeks bone, your cheek or even your lips loving the feeling of his hand/finger on your skin. It’s so smooth and soft he just can’t help.

Sometimes especially when he is sleepy, he will whisper things into your ear, kiss your all over your face.

A sucker for worshiping (do it for himself too)

Also he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, he might be not the first one to confess but once he knows that you love him. « I love you y/n » would be the first thing you will hear while waking up also the last thing before sleeping.

I think he might like the thought of you styling his hair even if all you’ve done was putting some cute clips on his hair he likes it and will even let you take picture. He is a sucker for your smile

Buy him jewelry and he will never take them off especially ring or necklace he just loves seeing you marking your territory.

As I stated before he is probably the type to overthinking a lot, like one day if you didn’t give the smile you used to give him, he is 100% you’ll dump him at the end of the day. Sometimes it’s not as bad as that, like you called him by his last name to tease him, he’ll just pout at you and then give you kiss all over your and won’t stop until you called him either by his name or by a nickname. But yes sometimes if you’re acting a little bit too cold to him he’ll think that your relationship is over, and will start to panic no knowing what to do to keep you by his side.

That’s the think with Kazutora he loves you more than he loves himself so he knows as a fact that he will be lost without you (not the only one to be honest but that’s for another headcanon)

So obviously you’ll need to be careful but since you’re still a human keep in mind to check him after if you’ve done something that let him think you guys were over.

Also, I can picture him to sometimes disappear. Like no one know where he is, not even you. He never left for too long (worst case : he leaves for a day), but sometimes he feels like he needs to be alone, like really alone. So he isolated himself for everyone, no one will know where he left, what he has done. But when he came back he always got that peaceful smile, the one where is eyes got nothing but regrets in them.

You feel like he spent his time in front of Baji ans Shinichiro’s grave, cause even years after this incident he couldn’t forgive himself for what he’s done to them. He can’t forgive him. Since he is lucky to be alive, sometimes he needs to see them in order to give him some strength in order to stay alive.

All the time when he is zoning out, you know he is thinking about all the bad things he has done to the people he cares the most, and even though he is working hard to be a better person what was done can’t be undone. Again hold his hand, stroke his hair do whatever you can to help him staying safe and not falling into his old demons.

Protect him at all cost.

Tag : @kshira

#tokyo revengers #tr #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tr kazutora #Tokyo Revengers headcanon #Kazutora headcanon #Kazutora hanemiya headcanon #Kazutora smut #Tokyo Revengers smut #Kazutora x you #Kazutora hanemiya x you

540 notes · View notes

slut4dympna · 3 years

Text

i’ll follow you anywhere / dympna devers x reader

꒰ ͜͡➸ summary: after dympna reveals to you he failed to follow through on a job, you know he has no choice but to flee. after some struggle, he agrees to take you with him. and where do you go when you’re on the run from your family in rural ireland ? you go to cork.

꒰ ͜͡➸ word count: one thousand, eight hundred and fifty eight.

꒰ ͜͡➸ tags/warnings: bad language, implied drug use, brief mention of making out, canon typical violence and angst, but its mostly just mentioned, not described, dympna is canon typically a bit of an arse, but it’s nothing you can’t handle, this is sort of an au really, since it obviously doesn’t take place during or after the events of the film, it’s more of a re-imagining of dympna being in arm’s position, so sort of a spoiler ig lol ?

꒰ ͜͡➸ author’s note: hello, i’m lana and this is my first time posting anything for the bkcu (barry keoghan cinematic universe) but it certainly won’t be my last. i’ve been in love with this little shit since dunkirk and seeing everyone else love him in eternals has fuelled something feral inside me and i’ve finally decided to dedicate a whole blog to writing for him and all his characters <3

It’s not hard to pay it no mind when a car you don’t recognise comes racing down the street you’re mid-way headed along; not after being well acquainted with the Devers for a good portion of your life. You’re not sure what your family had done to get on their good side, but you knew better than to question such things, especially when you were in the presence of that family. It was simply enough to be grateful for immunity, protection, and revenge, if you ever needed it.

Though, it was hard to hide the fact that you were grateful for him, too.

It was pleasant enough spending time with the Devers sisters when you were younger - they were bitchy, sure, and often a little big-headed, but you could easily see why they were that way. Hell, over the years it would be a lie to say it hadn’t rubbed off on you, at least a little. But as you got a little older, as you were introduced to the Devers family business... that’s when you had started spending more time with Dympna.

Insisting that you were more useful than you looked, your aunt had pushed Paudie to send you out, get you involved. Really, you knew, it was just because your family feared that their lack of direct involvement would push them to the edge of the circle, make them the first eliminated from the ring if anything happened. They figured if the Devers had you doing their dirty work, that would give them protection. Luckily, you knew better.

It wasn’t the first you had heard about “dealing with someone” within the family, but it was the first time you had seen it happen when they dealt with a close cousin. Though it was a little harrowing to witness, you had admittedly seen worse, and couldn’t help but let yourself be relieved it wasn’t you (or Dympna) in that position. It wasn’t like you were truly that helpful - you were their sweet talker, the honeypot, giving the guilty a false sense of flattery and security, before Arm came in and gave them what they deserved.

You knew Dympna often exaggerated your position to the rest of the family, arguing that you were vital to every job they carried out. In reality, most times, you would simply sit waiting in the car; sometimes you and Arm would play eye-spy, sometimes Dympna would pull a joint out the front compartment, and sometimes it would lead to the both of you on the back-seat, shirts off, tongues tangled.

It was impossible to pin point when you and Dympna had gone from friends to more, but the labels didn’t matter much to you, and they mattered a whole lot less to him. You loved him, and he knew that, and while he was reluctant to say anything, you could tell him from actions - from the way he defended you in front of his family, to his memory of your drink order at the pub, to his sweet, silent kisses and soft eyes that said so much more than his words ever could - that he loved you, too.

So, when he pulled up next to you in that unfamiliar, un-flashy car, on a day when you had not expected to see him at all, you didn’t hesitate to immediately jump in.

Assuming he would start speeding as he had been before, you buckled up and faced forwards, bracing yourself for his reckless, less than graceful manoeuvres. However, when he remained entirely still for the good part of a minute, you turned to him in confusion, finding his face a shade paler than normal, his eyes fixed forwards, his hand shaking on the gear shift.

“What happened? Hey, what’s going on?”

It scared you to see him like this. You had seen him tough and emotionless in front of Paudie, you had seen him playful and dominating in a room full of people at the pub, you had seen him soft and vulnerable in bed on a Sunday morning, but you had never seen him scared, before.

It took another minute before he responded, eyes not leaving the road ahead. His voice was small, but steady, and you could tell he wanted you to listen carefully.

“You remember Byrne, a few months back?”

“Yeah, sure. Big fella, hit one’a your sisters on a drive-by.”

“I lied to you.”

“About?”

“Paudie told me to take care of him.”

You frowned. “But we don’t do that.”

Dympna finally turned to look at you, then, and the expression that his face held told you that he definitely wasn’t lying now. You turned away, briefly, trying to wrap your head around things. Better men had committed worse acts. Sure, it probably wasn’t something you’d mention to your kids one day, but you could live with this.

“What’s the problem, though?” You turned back to look at him again. “It’s rough, but we knew he’d ask us to do some shite like this eventually. Besides, you know he’d do worse to you if you didn’t follow through, so.”

You chuckled a little at your own joke, but Dympna only turned to face away from you once more. He was always a hard person to read, not loving eye contact when it wasn’t a form of intimidation. But you tried your best to read him, in this moment. You could understand if he were upset at what he had had to do - you had assumed if Paudie would ask anyone to do this sort of dirty work, it would be Arm, that Dympna would only be there to supervise, as usual. But you could tell from his words, his face - Paudie told me to take care of it - Paudie meant that very literally.

Your concern only continued to flare when Dympna remained quiet, hands coming up to grip the steering wheel. There was more, he was still holding back from you. But it was bad to push him, it would only make him more riled up, even less likely to talk to you.

About to reassure him once more, you stopped yourself as a thought entered your mind, a thought that made your whole body stop. You cursed yourself for even allowing the thought to manifest at first, until you begun connecting the dots. His nervousness, the stolen car, his silence at your joke.

“You didn’t do it, did you?”

He finally turned to you, again, and you could see the makings of tears in his eyes. Your heart ached for him, you knew this had to be weighing on him harder than actually committing the crime would have. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know the price he would pay for this.

That’s when the panic settled in. You couldn’t stay here, now, they would find out eventually, and have both your heads. That was the key factor in all this, though - they didn’t know, yet. That gave you the advantage. That gave you time.

“We gotta- Let’s, okay, let’s think about this, use our logic, yeah. We gotta get out of here, pack a bag, not too much stuff, and we can run, and-”

“No.”

“No? Fuck are you talking about, ‘no’? If you stay, they’ll skin you, Dympna, you half-wit.”

“I’m not staying. But you are.”

“Don’t try and be a fucking martyr now, you dick, I am coming with you whether you like it or not.”

In a flash, he had turned to you, eyes changed from grieving to enraged, as he slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. “If you come, they will fucking skin you, too, you bitch. If you come, you are saying to them that you agree with what I did, or didn’t, do. And for that they’ll fucking kill you, and I’d never fucking forgive myself if you went down with me.”

His expression saddened once more, eyes brimming with tears as he choked out his last few words. Your own eyes pricked, sensing how raw this moment truly was. This was the deciding factor of your relationship. This was your label. And you weren’t about to fuck this up.

Smoothing a hand over his, your other hand reached over and turned the car key, re-starting the engine. “Let them fucking try and catch us.”

Dympna shakes his head, still unconvinced. “I can’t do this to you, this will be it, running for the rest of your life. My shame will be a burden to us until the day we die, and we will be stressed and unhappy and have no fucking family or anyone to look out for us in this world.”

“Why did you come here?”

“What?”

“If you don’t want me to come with you, then why bothering finding me before you leave?”

“Because, I... I wanted’a say goodbye.”

“Fucking liar. You want me to come with you.”

“No. No, I don’t. God, stop doing this to me, putting words in my mouth shit. I just wanted’a say goodbye, tell you I’m not dead, s’all.”

“Then why tell me why you’re running?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“‘Cause if I didn’t then you wouldn’t let me go.”

“But by telling me, you’ve made me guilty. If they find out- When they find out, they’ll know I knew, and that’ll have me in just as much trouble as you.”

“So fucking lie to them, tell them you didn’t know!”

You scoffed. You had him cornered. He wanted you to come, and you could both tell. “I’m a shite liar.”

He looked at you, for a moment, then down at your hands, covering his own and the steering wheel. The cogs were visibly turning in his head. He was done for, and he knew it. “You’re gonna hate me forever.”

“Well, I’d feel that way regardless of our situation. Come on, pretty boy. Drive the fucking car.”

And so he does. Life might be uncertain now, but it’s nothing you’re truly mad about. They would be after you, either way, and to live with the knowledge that Dympna was out there, being hunted, never knowing what did or didn’t happen to him, you had decided a long time ago that that would surely be a worse fate than dying by his side. It had never been your wish for the normal or settled life, it couldn’t be when you did the job you did - you had seen it first hand with Arm. This life had no place for kids or nice houses or friendly neighbourhoods. But being on the run would bring a new, different kind of adventure. Sleazy motels and cheap breakfast and singing to the radio and laughable disguises.

“Where should we go?” He’s grinning at you now, a big, shit-eating grin, the one he knows makes you soft for him.

You pretend to think about it, tapping a finger to your lips. “Hm... Mexico?”

That gets a laugh. “Who are we, fucking American mules desperate to pass the border?”

“Who knows? Maybe that is who we are now.”

“Who we are is who we’ve always been: fucking cheap.”

You stop and think genuinely this time.

“How about Cork?”

#barry keoghan #barry keoghan x reader #dympna devers #dympna devers x reader #calm with the horses #calm with the horses dympna #druig #druig x reader

274 notes · View notes

breathings-of-the-heart · 3 years

Text

Stuck on You (Levi x Childhood Friend! Reader) Part 2

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been kinda a while but here is part 2~ I have this habit of writing and rewriting my pieces since I’m never fully satisfied by them, but overdoing that is just as bad so I’m going to leave this as is ajflkajada The amount of love my first part recieved was so genuinely heart warming and I cannot express my gratitude enough. I’m nervous to post this because of it, to be honest, because I hope it lives up to the expectations. Thank you to everyone who has shown me support, it means so much! If you guys want a part three, or maybe just a short epilogue, I will consider it so let me know! Also if you would like to be tagged in my future works, comment below or send me a message <3 I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Season 1 and No Regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 4k

If you haven’t already, read part one here

As a former member of the Scouts yourself, you knew the ins and outs of the military’s regulations. Because of this, you also knew your request was a strange one, seeing as soldiers weren’t typically allowed visitors, but you hoped your letter appealed to the more personal side of Commander Erwin. Apparently it somehow moved the man, seeing as you had been brought by carriage to the legion's base the following night.

The clopping of horse hooves eventually stopped, and you were currently being escorted into the building by another familiar face, her hand already outstretched to help you out of the vehicle as soon as the door swung open.

“I understand your reservations about this, but you’re brave for coming here. I think he’ll be relieved to see you, (Y/N),” Hange spoke, her fingers hovering over the small of your back as she guided you down one of the many hallways, lantern swinging in her free hand. “I think he could benefit from seeing a familiar face.”

Your eyes were downcast, staring at the floor as rooms upon rooms passed by along your path. You couldn’t speak if you tried, words seemingly stuck in your throat and unable to keep up with your racing thoughts.

Deep breaths, (Y/N).

For better or for worse, there was no need to reply, as Hange came to a halt not a second later. She squeezed your shoulder gently before bringing her knuckles to the wooden door, knocking once, twice.

Your hands were clammy, heart thundering in your ears as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Levi, someone is here to see you,” Hange’s voice rang out firmly.

There was a distinct sound of a chair being pushed back, and footsteps growing nearer. Time slowed down, and you began to second guess every decision up to now. Would Levi even want you to be here? Will he be angry? You felt like bolting away and forgetting about the whole idea, suddenly afraid of his reaction. Afraid that your presence would only make everything worse.

Your eyes were widening as you realized the possibility of leaving was too late to explore, Levi already turning the handle from the other side. So instead, you swallowed your pride, stood up straighter, and pushed away the growing sensation of nausea in your gut.

“Who could possibly be important enough to interrupt my--” 

The second his eyes met yours, Levi halted in all movements. Your gaze was fixed on him as well, every bit of longing settling back in your bones the second it did.

He looked nearly the same as the last time you saw him, clean and kempt as ever, hair styled the way it always was-- the same way he’d keep it when he used to chastise you for running your fingers through it.

And those stoic, gray irises that drew you in your were fierce, yet somehow emptier. At the sight of you, his flooding emotions became too much to properly register, unlocking every moment you’d ever spent with him as they replayed all at once.

“(Y/N)?” He couldn’t hide his disbelief, eyes widening ever so slightly.  

“Hello, Levi.”  

~~~~~~~~~

Never did Levi think he would grow to care for another group of people the same way he had for you, Farlan, and Isabel. But sitting around Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oruo, he found their excited chatter over the dinner table endearing more than anything. The ever stoic look on his face didn’t change, and he would never openly admit it, but it felt reminiscent to be surrounded by trusted company like this. All of Squad Levi had full faith in one another; it was necessary for the battle field. This created an unspoken bond between all of them that the unreachable Ackerman did not picture building with others again.

Fate worked in funny ways, he supposed.

Sounds of clinking silverware and chatter filled the mess hall, sun setting outside of its many windows and painting the expanse in an orange light. The males eyes drifted towards the entrance of the room expectantly, where a clock rested above the doorway. He took a sip of his tea whilst squinting at it, attempting to get a better read before feeling a slight jab in his side.

“Looking for someone, sir?” Petra inquired, with a hint of deeper emotion in her tone that went right over the male’s head.

He glared at her in annoyance, having almost spilled his drink as the thought of you returned to the forefront of his mind.

It was strange, seeing how capable you had become after spending those months by yourself in the Underground. They made you a bit more calloused than when Levi last saw you, carrying over to your skills as a Scout. You never used to be skilled at riding ODM gear, not even when Levi tried to teach you in your youth. Seeing you slash Titans without blinking an eye was like watching someone completely different.

But you had to learn, since you had no one to protect you.

Your open displays affection had grown fewer and farther between as your time in the Survey Corps dragged on. At first, Levi thought nothing of it. Truthfully, the Captain had hardly noticed, with how busy the both of you were. He wrote it off as stress, or the workload catching up to you. Or, maybe, it was that nagging thought in the back of his conscience he dared not dwell on: he had turned you into this, after being away for so long and then failing to protect your friends.

But as your words replayed in his mind like a broken record, too late he realized this wasn’t the case.

“I see the way you look at her. I see it because you used to look at me that way.”

“Captain?” Petra repeated, leaning forward to study his distant countenance and successfully pulling the man out of his thoughts. “She’s probably just training.”

He rested his hand on top of her head, turning it away from him and sighing.

“Eat, Petra. I don’t need you to be whining about hunger during our patrol tomorrow morning,” he chastised, forcing his eyes away from the doorway.

After that talk, Levi had watched you go, telling himself that you’d return soon enough. Yet could not shake the feeling in his gut that there was something amiss. He pushed away the pit in his stomach. You were safe, you were healthy, and that was all that mattered. Humanity’s Strongest had other things to focus on, after all, and tuned back into his comrades’ conversation. The man blended back in easily, occasionally offering a few of his own comments as the meal dragged on.

Every so often his thoughts would shift back to your conversation earlier that day, and he realized that you were wrong. As close to Petra as he had gotten, there was a stark difference between you and her:

No matter how strong you’d get, and no matter what you thought of him, Levi would always shield you from as much of this world as he could.

But it was better this way. Better if you moved on from him and easier to do if you thought it was because he wanted Petra.

If only he knew your last words to him “I’ll be back for dinner,” had been a lie.

It had been strange for him when you didn’t return. Levi tried not to think about how Kenny had done the same, instead grasping for a reason. For once, he could not read your thought process. The male had no idea why you’d voluntarily leave, after everything. He knew better than to hold onto certainty, but you’d thrown him for a loop. You were always the one to communicate, the problem solver, the one who understood him without much direction. Didn’t you know that you were irreplaceable? He should have come clean: told you that he didn’t see Petra that way, and just didn’t have the heart to admit he didn’t feel good enough for you anymore.

Did he ever even get the chance to say “I love you?”

His regret multiplied tenfold as he began to understand that maybe if he had, you would’ve stayed.

~~~~~~~~

A strange sense of comfort washed over the man as you smiled softly, small hands clasped together in front of you. He blinked, wondering if you were simply a mirage caused by his sleep deprivation. But you remained where you were, after all this time, standing at his door. For once in the man’s life, his mind was drawing a blank.

“I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” Hange stated, excusing herself and soon disappearing out of sight.  

Her statement pulled the both of you back into the present, and you were suddenly self conscious of Levi’s stare. You tucked your hair behind your ears and gestured towards his office, unable to gage his reaction to your presence.

“Would it be alright if I came in?” you asked shyly, astonished he hadn’t slammed the door in your face the second Hange left.  

To your shock, Levi simply nodded, stepping aside to let you through. Your movements were unsure and hesitant, stark in comparison to his: calm and collected as ever.

Just like any space Levi occupied, the area was clean and tidy, a lantern sitting upon his desk the only source of light against the cloudy night sky. It smelled like tea leaves, sandalwood, and disinfectant, a signature scent that made you fill with nostalgia. As the click of the door echoed behind you, the reality of your situation set in, and you turned around to face the man you were here to see.

His gaze had never left you.

“You’re hurt,” was the first thing that left your mouth, concern evident as you studied the bandaging that peaked above his knee length shoes.  

“Long story,” Levi offered curtly, eyeing you up and down from a few feet away. “One I don’t particularly care to tell you.”  

“Of course, that’s fine,” you agreed softly, a weak smile pulling at your lips.

You did your best to mask the hurt, knowing you deserved to feel it. It hurt to be here, the fear that Levi hated you previously keeping you away. Now that you were facing the music, that fear seemed more realistic than ever. Your brain wracked to change the topic before your mind could continue overthinking; desiring instead to cut the unbearable, building tension that never used to exist between you two.

“How are you, Levi?” it was a stupid question, but you no longer knew how to talk to him.

“(Y/N).” 

The way he said your name was sharp and challenging. You quickly cleared your throat and looked away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you’re--” 

“--Why did you leave?” Levi effectively cut you off, orbs narrowing as you dared to come closer.

The question caught you off guard. You thought you’d made it obvious with your last conversation with him those years ago. Surely, he had some idea, although his pained expression said otherwise. His fingers twitched at his sides, a movement you didn’t miss as your eyes flickered back to his in surprise. He had been so composed just a moment ago, that the sudden shift gave you whiplash.

Now his fists were clenching, as he waited in the painful silence, knuckles turning white.

“Why did you leave?” The phrase echoed tauntingly in your ears, over and over again.

You don’t know what came over you. All you knew was that you needed to rid him of the rare, defeated look etched into his countenance. To purge him of this feeling you caused. Whether reaching out would help or hurt, you didn’t know.

But you needed to be near him.

Levi’s eyelids screwed shut as you brushed your thumb across his cheek. The action was so simple, so delicate, so unsure and so familiar all at once, and at the feeling, the Captain’s composure finally came undone.

 He reached up and gripped your wrist, as if you’d fade away if he let go. In previous years, it was always you who craved skinship, yet it seemed as if a weight had been lifted off Levi’s shoulders to have you this close. Your touch still felt like the comforting warmth of a campfire; the type that would make anyone want to stay forever.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be better off without me,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to cause you any pain.”

He let out a breath.

“Then why are you here now?” his question was more defeated than hostile, which you hadn’t expected.

If someone asked a few hours ago, your answer would have been much clearer. But now, the logic that brought you here seemed overshadowed by doubt. After all this time, and after everything that had happened between you and Levi, any semblance of a relationship with him seemed unsalvageable. You told yourself this mantra over and over until it stuck. So why were you here?

Levi must’ve thought it audacious, for you to run away like a coward and still think you were relevant to him.

“I owe you so much. Whether I ended up being wrong or right, I’ve always acted with your best interest,” you sighed, thumb brushing over Levi’s dark circles. “Truthfully, I don’t know if I’m any use to you now. I might be the last person you want to seek comfort from, but on the off chance that I still matter to you, I’ll always come back,” you whispered earnestly.

Levi’s grip on your wrist tightened imperceptibly, and you longed to bury your face in the crook of his neck; to feel him wrap his arms around you in his embrace once more. It seemed as if Levi was staring into your soul, his shallow breaths mingling with yours at this close proximity as he opened his eyes to fully drink you in.

“I’m here to tell you that if you need me, I’ll stay.” 

He looked to the side as if brushing aside your touch, hand falling away from the raven-haired man’s face as he did so. It felt like rejection, as if he was brushing all of you away with a simple turn of his head.

Silence.

“You’re a real idiot, (Y/N),” he spoke finally, voice nearly out of place against the stillness.

Moonlight suddenly peaked through the window, showering you in a bath of silver light. Levi recognized this look. You were wearing your heart on your sleeve, offering everything you had to give; eyes wide and honest, shining with a vulnerability that even after a lifetime of knowing you, he had never seen before. The man felt conflicted at the sight, annoyance prickling under his skin as you somehow managed to hold him together and tear him apart all at once with your presence.

Losing his squad twist that knife in his heart, convincing him that he was cursed to be left by everyone and his superhuman talents only doomed him to live a life alone.

But now, here you were, standing within arms length: despite the pain you caused, still the only person he had left. Only you could draw this much emotion out of the typically monotonous man. He couldn’t tell if you were a blessing or a curse, but in the moment, all he knew was that he didn’t want you to leave again. He needed you to stay here, with him, the way it should be. Because you were family.

And true to your word, you did.

“You should really get some sleep, you know,” you stated after a while, closing the door with your foot as you entered with two fresh cups of tea.  

You watched Levi fill out paperwork on the other side of the desk, bringing the cup to his lips in the strange fashion you always teased him for. His gaze flickered up boredly.

“You know I don’t sleep. You go on ahead, though. The bed’s behind that door,” he paused, gesturing somewhere behind him. “I hardly ever use it.”

You shook your head, reaching forward and plucking Levi’s pen from his hand.  

“What you’re drinking is caffeine free. I switched it, so you have no excuse now.” You ignored the indignant scowl growing on the Captain’s face, urging him to listen. “Please, you really should rest. You know you need to.”

It took an entire hour of imploring and convincing for the man to finally give in, him grumbling as you helped take off the boot on his injured foot and ushered him onto the bed. You knew you were the last person with any right to tell the short Captain what to do, but knowing Levi, he was running on an hour or two of sleep while his body was begging for rest. And yes, you were very much hypocritical, draped across the couch in Levi’s office, staring at the ceiling. But none of that mattered to you, as long as he was okay.

You had been lost in introspection, being a room away from your childhood best friend and first love after so long a surreal experience. It felt strange to be back here, but you were too tired to dwell on how strangely out of place you seemed in a place you once called home.

The weight of your abundant emotions from the day finally crashed down, fatigue settling in. You rubbed your eyes, and snuggled closer to the cushions, letting the darkness claim you.

And in the other room, as Levi slipped out of his uniform, shaking his head in exasperation. His last thoughts while he inspected the door as if he could see you through it, was that of course only (Y/N) (L/N) could be more stubborn than he was.

As he slipped under the covers per your command, the ghost of a smile spread across his lips at the thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps it was the constant danger of where you grew up, and the need to always stay on your toes, but for as long as you could remember, you’d been a light sleeper. If someone so much as stared at you for too long, your body would jolt awake, ready to take action within a moment’s notice. There had been many instances where this came in handy in your past; even after years of seldom disruption in your now boring life within the walls, this was a trait you never seemed to grow out of. So it wasn’t hard to notice the heavy breathing and panicked movement from behind Levi’s closed door.

Just like for you, some things never changed-- when it came to old habits, you knew the man like the back of your hand. The reason he rarely ever slept was one you were quite familiar with. One both of you struggled with, and probably always would. Nightmares never seem to stop. You’d gotten through so many of your own rough nights with your friends by your side.

Levi, however, always refused to admit how they affected him. Insisted on going through it by himself.

The subconscious urge to look after one other was most likely one you'd never grow out of, even if Levi had. You didn’t think twice before making your way across the office, swinging your legs across the sofa, awake within seconds. Without missing a beat, you stood up and made your way to Levi’s personal sleeping quarters, knuckles rapping against the frame twice. Levi’s shallow gasps quieted, and when you realized he didn’t plan on opening the door, you steeled your nerves to do it yourself. This was what you were here for, wasn’t it? To offer some comfort?

He did want me to stay.

“Levi?” You called into the darkness gently, feet padding foreword as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

His silhouette was upright in the bed, no doubt staring at you menacingly.

“I'm fine, (Y/N). Go back to sleep,” he snapped.

That didn't deter you, for he would never openly admit vulnerability. This was by no means new behavior. Besides, the strong emotion behind the Captain’s voice was an easy tell that betrayed his words. You pressed on, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Do you remember the time we were teenageers and you got sick, but couldn’t afford medicine so I took that sketchy job you specifically told me not to?” Your back was to him, yet you could feel Levi peering at you.

“Obviously,” he humoured you with a reply, knowing you weren’t going to leave. “You came home half alive and I felt like the most useless piece of shit in the world.”

You chuckled, fingers fiddling with the white sheets beneath them.

“Yes, which was unfair to yourself but also something I did not realize since you called me pretty much every name in the book,” you smiled, the memory oddly fond despite its events. “You were so angry, but I was also scared out of my mind... which was more important than your anger, I suppose. So you let me lay next to you that night. That was all it took to make me feel safe again.”

There was a long pause, you trying to get your words together in a way that could allow Levi to understand how you felt right now.

“I know what you’re thinking; what you’ve been thinking your whole life. You haven’t failed anyone and that stupid idea should be the furthest thing on your mind. Take it from someone who knows, alright? So many lives have had meaning because of y--”

His hand closed around your wrist, the grip much like it was the day you left him.

This time, he would not let go.

“--Stop, (Y/N). Don’t.”

You hadn’t realized there were tears falling down your cheeks until Levi turned your face to look at him. Trying to look away in your embarrassment, you laughed bitterly. His grip did not budge as he examined you sternly.

“Just be quiet and go to sleep, alright?”

You wiped at your face, determination etched into every fibre of your being.

“Mark my words, Levi, I will make you believe me.”

Levi rolled his eyes but tugged at you once more, opening the duvet in an invitation. When he sensed your uncertainty he simply nodded, arms winding around your waist as you finally crawled in beside him. Both of you knew that there was so much that still needed to be said; so many buried feelings and pain that would only take time to unravel. It felt like a miracle to find yourselves in this situation, pushing aside the thousands of emotions and questions and misunderstandings the two of you had, if only to stay together in this moment.

You didn’t need Levi to know that you still loved him; not while he was coping with another loss. It would be selfish to spring that on, and that was not what you were here for. But you had to tell him:

“I missed you.”

Levi hummed, nose brushing against yours in the close proximity.

“You better not be gone when I wake up,” he chided in response, orbs fluttering shut.

Your fingers threaded through his onyx black locks, brushing through the knots soothingly. Knowing you’d help this man heal no matter how long it took, you took comfort in the realization that he’d finally let you do just that.

“I’ll be right here. You’re not alone, Levi. I promise you never will be.”

He pulled you closer, thankful that there was at least one source of warmth left in his life that he could hold onto-- especially after coming to terms with and almost having been certain he’d never experience this feeling of contentment, again. But here you were to prove him wrong, a living slice of home in his arms.

It may have been wishful thinking, but you could have sworn you felt Levi’s breath fan across your hairline, a soft voice whispering “Thank you, (Y/N).” before you felt yourself slip away into slumber once more.

taglist: @asterroidd @chucky-26o1 @silversxble @belovedwindermere @christina-mj-stan @leviackerrman @cravrat @thekohakuriver1 @batakprincess @sunisenpai

#snk #AoT #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi #lance corporal levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk levi #snk fic #aot fic #levi x reader #attack on titan imagines

772 notes · View notes

javier-pena · 3 years

Text

alone

Chapter 1 of The Hunt

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: Mature (for now but that will - spoilers! - change eventually)

Summary: When your best friend and companion is abducted by a group of outlaws, you hire a Mandalorian to help track down the men and get your revenge. What seems like a simple enough task stretches into a month-long trek through inhospitable terrain while both you and the Mandalorian are trying to come to terms with events in your past you cannot change. Set after Season 2.

Warnings: mentions (and short descriptions) of death, murder, and torture | a lot of hurt and no comfort | mentions of loss | mild to moderate language | a lot - and I mean A LOT - of talk about Din’s hands lmao

Notes: This is my first attempt at a Mandalorian fic and the first time in months I’ve written anything. It’s vaguely inspired by my favorite western movies, True Grit (1969/2010), The Quick and the Dead (1995), and The World to Come (2020). So yes, this is going to be very much like a western. I also want to - again - thank Dani @javierpcna who was like “are you writing Mandalorian stuff?” about a month ago and has, since then, read through this chapter more often than me and encouraged me to continue to write it and offered so much valuable insight whenever I came to her with an idea ... seriously, Dani, this fic wouldn’t exist without you and I hope I can find a way to repay you! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this first chapter (I’m already working on the second one) ...

masterlist | join the tag list

The day the Mandalorian arrives on Alvorine is the day you lose your best friend. You’re still busy putting out the fire, running your soot-blackened hand across your face, where the dirt mingles with the tears you’re too tired to stop from streaming down your face, when you hear the thrusters of a spacecraft roaring above you. You barely glance up; you can’t be bothered to. It could be the remnants of the Empire looking for recruits, it could be the New Republic looking for the remnants of the Empire, or it could be the bandits coming back for more. But what do you care? They already took away the one person you care most about in the galaxy. You just grip the shovel tighter and drive it into the soil so you can choke the fire underneath moist stones and dirt.

While you exhaust your body with physical labor, you occupy your mind with thoughts of revenge. Revenge as dark and quenching as the soil beneath you. With every load of dirt you heave onto the searing flames, your plan gains another sharp edge until all you can think of is driving the cutting edge down onto the throat of the man who gripped Brea’s arm and pulled her onto the speeder bike. Maybe his head would come off right away, maybe your tool would just obstruct his windpipe as you watch the life drain slowly out of his eyes. And even that would be too good an end for that monster.

It’s not just in your mind – those thoughts aren’t simply there to ground you while you continue your work in the ruins of what was once your home. It’s not pure fantasy, something to give you back a feeling of control. You are determined to follow through on it; you are going to hunt down these men who burned down your farm and stole Brea from you. You will not rest until they are all dead by your hand. And if you should die in the process … then you won’t go out without a fight, without taking as many of those bastards with you as you can. They have sealed their own fate by coming here today.

You know Brea isn’t dead; they won’t kill her unless she tries to kill one of them first. And she wouldn’t do that, she is too gentle for that, too docile. She would rather turn the other cheek. They should have taken you instead; she doesn’t deserve the fate that awaits her. You would’ve at least put up a fight, make them pay for what they did. And Brea? She would just die.

For now, she’s alive. But whatever you set out to do once you’re done here won’t be a rescue mission. You aren’t under the illusion you can save her. You know that even if you were to leave right now, even if you had your own speeder bike, you would never find her in time. No, this possibility hasn’t even crossed your mind. All you want to do is cause these men more pain than they caused you. You know it is impossible because you cannot imagine anything worse, but you sure as hell will do your best.

You straighten your back, drive the shovel into the ground, and use it as support while you try to catch your breath. The air burns in your lungs, and not just from the cold. There is also the steadily rising black smoke that makes breathing hard; your throat stings, so do your sides, and there is a bitter taste in your mouth. But you’re almost finished here, you’re almost done putting out the fire, so it won’t endanger the surrounding forest. And with every flame you bury, you also bury a piece of your soul until you feel like there is nothing left that makes you human, until all the pain and despair you’re feeling since listening to Brea’s screams grow quieter and quieter until they were swallowed up by silence has turned into a cold, brazen cry for revenge. But you’re glad this has made you less forgiving, less kind, less … human. Those things would only get in the way of the task ahead of you.

As the last flames go out with a wet hiss, one of Alvorine’s three blue white suns vanishes behind the treetops. You know the other two will be quick to follow. And you don’t have anywhere to spend the night. You wouldn’t mind sleeping with your back propped against a tree. You’ve done it often enough. But it’s winter, and the air is already cold and will be even colder once the other two suns set too. And you just lost every blanket, every single piece of fabric that could keep you warm in a small inferno. You know this is just an excuse, a comforting lie you tell yourself. The truth is you cannot spend a minute longer on this clearing, even if that means you have to walk the four miles to the next settlement. You’re so exhausted you cannot feel your legs, but you don’t care. Anything is better than spending the night here, even collapsing in the middle of the dark forest.

You leave the shovel where you stand and walk to the edge of the clearing, swallowing around the lump in your throat, trying to hold down more tears that are threatening to spill over and down your cheeks. Once you reach the edge of the forest, where the air is a bit clearer, you take a deep breath and turn around to look at the ruins of your home, now nothing more than a black pile of rubble. You have nothing, nothing but the clothes you’re wearing, not even a small trinket to remind you of Brea and the many happy hours you spent here tending to your fields, sweeping the front porch or sitting around the fireplace sharing supper. Even remembering how you worked on menial chores now feels like the most precious memory, one you will hold onto until your last breath. Because even though they have taken everything from you, they can’t take away the memory of Brea’s laugh.

***

They stare at you as you enter the inn. They stare and then look away. They can’t bear your presence because it reminds them of their own guilt. Not one of them came to your aid this morning, not one of them came afterwards to offer help. And you ignore them too because there is nothing left to say. All you want is some food and a dry place to sleep before you turn your back on them forever.

You sit down at a small table in a dark corner. The patrons around you either turn their backs to you or stand up to move their meals and conversations someplace else. It’s as if you’ve been marked. If you had any strength left in you, you would call them out on their behavior. Shit, you would wreak havoc, and only stop when the last one of them is on their knees begging for forgiveness. But you’re glad you’re too exhausted because your sudden hatred for everyone and everything scares you. The villagers don’t deserve to fall victim to your rage. There is nothing they could’ve done. They are just as defenseless and helpless as you. Would you have come to their aid if your positions were reversed? You would like to think so, but just because it gives you a false sense of moral superiority. Deep down you know the truth. Deep down you know you would hide too, praying that you would be spared.

As you dig into your bowl of soup, you realize how hungry you are. Even though everything tastes like ash in your mouth, your stomach is glad to have something to clench around when your thoughts stray to this morning’s events again. And you know there’s no need to punish yourself by refusing your body the nourishment it needs. The opposite, in fact – you know you’ll need all the strength you can get if you’re really going after them.

As you swallow one ashy bite after the other, you let your eyes wander around the room, looking for something that will distract you from your thoughts and your feelings of guilt. Everyone avoids your gaze; everyone acts as if your corner is empty. Everyone … except one stranger.

He sits in a booth close to the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze on you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you – he’s wearing a helmet that covers his entire head, the kind you’ve seen twice before in this corner of the galaxy. He’s a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter, and his presence here doesn’t really surprise you. Even though actually seeing one is a rare occurrence, stories about them are countless.

Alvorine is a planet without laws, a planet that lives by its own rules, so many criminals decide to hide out here while they wait for their crimes to be forgotten. There is no military presence on the planet, no judicial system, no one to catch and punish the wrongdoers. The planet follows the rules of whoever is in charge, which changes frequently, but none of the powerful people have enough resources to enforce those rules anyway. Disputes are often just settled by the parties involved in whatever way they see fit. Only the Mandalorians, who are hired by people on other worlds, by people who have never experienced what it is like to live on Alovrine, are brave enough to get involved in those disputes. You have to admit you do feel a tiny bit curious as to why that particular Mandalorian is here ... who hired him? And who is he hunting?

You tentatively let your gaze wander over his stoic body, over the beskar covering his arms and chest, over the bandolier wrapped around his upper body, over the visor hiding his eyes. If you had one like him on your side, you wouldn’t need to worry about getting your revenge. He would catch those men in the blink of an eye. And if you paid him enough, he would do to them whatever you wanted.

He would cut off their limbs but keep them alive long enough to feel it.

He would make them run for it, give them the illusion of hope, only to crush it like their bones.

He would let you watch, let you choose whatever punishment you saw fit.

You shift in your seat because you can almost smell the blood, you can hear a faint echo of their screams, and it makes you feel light-headed and nauseous, but also elevates you, lifts a weight off your shoulders, even if just for a brief moment.

But he’s not here to do your bidding. And when you lift your head again, he’s gone.

You finish your bowl of soup and then decide to rent a room upstairs for the night. You don’t have a place to stay anymore and it’s too dangerous to start your pursuit while it’s dark. The forest belongs to dangerous creatures during the night, more dangerous than any man out there. And you’re planning on staying alive for just a little while longer.

You stretch and yawn and move to get up when your path is suddenly blocked. It happens so fast you don’t register anything at first apart from the cold, hard beskar chest plate that is level with your face. Its unexpected appearance makes you lose your balance and you fall back down onto the bench you’ve been sitting on. The Mandalorian extends his hand, his fingers closing around thin air. It’s a half-hearted attempt to stop your fall, and it comes too late – your backside has already painfully collided with the hard wood.

“May I join you?” His voice sounds distorted through the modulator in his helmet. He sounds like a machine, not like a being with a heartbeat.

You want to tell him no, want to tell him to fuck off, but for tonight you have no fight left in you. So you nod.

He sits down and you expect to hear the clink of his armor, expect to feel a tremor when his heavy body comes to rest on a stool opposite you. But there is no sound, no movement, and the lack makes you sit up straighter. This isn’t just another cowardly villager you can get rid of by glaring at him … this is an apex predator.

You swallow with some difficulty. “Can I help you?” you ask, your voice level, your eyes resting on his glove-clad hands lying on the table. You figure you’re safe as long as you can see them.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you. You cannot see his eyes behind the tinted visor. No matter how uncomfortable the situation makes you feel, you try not to move … you try not to show any sign of weakness, to give him any excuse to lunge across the table and strangle you.

Finally, he answers. “I’m looking for work.”

Now you cannot help but move. You exhale sharply, and with that release of breath comes a release of tension as you slump backwards, your back hitting the wall behind you. You cross your arms over your chest. “I can’t help you,” you say. You don’t have any work to offer him, no work worthy of the skills of a Mandalorian who usually hunts down important people, kings, merchants, people who influence the course of the galaxy’s history. Following a few lowly bandits is not the work he’s used to. You don’t even want to tell him about it because you know he’d take it as an insult. And even if - by some miracle - your quest for revenge would be deemed a worthy cause in the eyes of the Mandalorian, you couldn’t afford his services.

The slightest movement of his helmet is the only reaction your answer gets out of him. Whether he shifts because he’s surprised or because he’s angry, or whether his scalp itches under the metal you cannot tell.

Still, you feel the need to explain yourself. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money.”

Shit, that’s the wrong thing to say. It implies you have work for him, but that you’re too poor to pay him. For all you know, this could be a grave insult in Mandalorian society.

His fingers on the table clench around thin air again. “What can you offer?” he asks.

He doesn’t want to know about the job, the quarry as you know they call it. No, he just wants to know how much he can earn.

“240 credits,” you answer. It’s all you have. You won’t need it anymore.

He tilts his head and you expect him to refuse, but then he says, “That’s enough.”

You’re taken aback, surprised. He’s caught you off-guard. You were fully prepared to see him walk away at hearing the ridiculously low amount of money you just offered. “You don’t even know what the job is,” you protest. The last thing you need is a Mandalorian hunting you down because you’re not paying him enough.

“They told me,” he says with a nod behind him.

You follow the movement with your eyes and see heads whip to the side, gazes wandering downwards, you notice conversations being picked up again. White hot fury fills you, more powerful than the flames that destroyed your house.

“They had no right,” you press out through clenched teeth.

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything. He sits still like a statue, unwavering, as you fight a small battle with yourself. You should leave without looking back. Messing with a Mandalorian is even more dangerous than the task ahead of you. But he’s offering you something invaluable, something no amount of credits can get you: a chance. If you go alone, you’ll be dead in about a week. There’s no use pretending you’ll get out of it alive. But if you accept the Mandalorian’s help – his services, you have to remind yourself – you might make it through two. You might get to see your dreams of revenge become reality.

You sigh deeply as a heavy weariness settles over you. You’re exhausted, and now that all the adrenaline has left your body, you can feel all the small cuts and bruises today’s labors have left behind. And you feel empty … cold and empty, and utterly alone.

The Mandalorian still doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t defend the villagers, he doesn’t tell you what he knows about you or the job, he doesn’t try to persuade you to take him up on his offer, nor does he walk away from it. He just sits there and waits for you to make up your mind, as if it’s all the same to him. And it probably is. Either he goes with you and earns some money, or he doesn’t and looks for work elsewhere. He is completely detached from the whole affair. There is no emotional investment, just a job that needs to be done.

He doesn’t care if you live or die, he just cares if you pay him or not.

This realization is what finally helps you make up your mind. “I want to hire you,” you say, your tongue heavy in your mouth. All you really want is to sleep.

There is no reaction for the longest time but then the Mandalorian nods. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something, give him details or explain the specifics of the job to him. But before you can decide what to say next, he stands abruptly.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he says before turning around.

Your brain needs a moment to catch up but when it does, you’re already on your feet. “Wait,” you say, and to your surprise the broad, steel-clad man listens to you.

He doesn’t face you, but he stops.

You briefly consider asking him if you can accompany him, but you don’t. You don’t have to ask, you get to decide.

“I’m coming with you,” you tell him.

You tell a stranger, a dangerous one at that, one who makes his money by making other people’s lives a living hell, that you will travel with him through dark, deserted forests where no one will stop him from taking what he wants from you instead of earning it, where no one will come to your aid should he not honor the deal you apparently just made with him. And you don’t care. Because no matter what he will do to you, it can’t be worse than what has already been done.

But all your worries and fears focus in on just one tiny aspect of this whole, fucked-up situation when he says, “I work alone.”

You don’t want to negotiate. This shouldn’t even be up for debate. You’re his employer now, you get to decide how things are done. But if you insist on this, he could just walk away from you. And you cannot let that happen now that you’ve had an idea of what it would be like to have a Mandalorian on your side.

“We’re not a team,” you say. “Think of me as an interested party. As someone who is fascinated by your work.”

You’re not sure if that is the right thing to say. His shoulders move, but he still doesn’t turn around. When he speaks again, you know it was the wrong thing to say.

“I work alone or not at all.”

You don’t want to accept that. You want to be there when those men are punished for what they did. You don’t want to wait around for the Mandalorian to come back, not when you don’t have anywhere to wait around in. You’ve lost everything. Had he talked to the villagers as he claims, he would know this. Or maybe he does. Maybe he knows you lost your home today but doesn’t care. He doesn’t even know the definition of the word home. It means nothing to him.

You take a deep breath. “Then I won’t be needing your services.”

This finally makes him turn around. Everything in you screams for you to take a few steps back, to put yourself out of his reach. You can feel the atmosphere between you shift – he draws back his shoulders, makes himself even taller than he already is. And you know, you just know, that refusing his offer, that backtracking on your agreement is the worst mistake you made tonight.

You’re pretty sure that not honoring a deal is the worst insult to a Mandalorian.

“Going alone will be your death,” he says when you cannot bear the tension a second longer.

“What’s it to you?”

The words are out. They are a challenge, one you didn’t mean to make, one you shouldn’t have made, but it’s done now. Your hand begins to tremble, and your feet grow cold with fear as you prepare yourself for his reaction. You don’t know if he will hit you, tie you up, torture you, or just kill you on the spot. He could do all of these things without having to fear any repercussions. You curse yourself for not having been more careful, for making this fatal mistake, because now Brea will go unavenged. Just because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut, just because you’re stubborn and hot-headed and oh so stupid.

But to your surprise, the Mandalorian shrugs. He lifts his broad shoulders, then lowers them again as your eyes follow the movement. But he’s not giving you anything more: He doesn’t insist on going alone, he doesn’t turn around and leave, he just keeps standing opposite you, motionless, emotionless, until you’re convinced you imagined the shrug.

So you decide to make the next move by removing yourself from this situation before he changes his mind and drags you back to his ship to do whatever he wants to you. You take a deep breath and start to step around him, a movement that is almost impossible to complete in this small space you’re both in. But you attempt it, nevertheless. When you’re level with him, doing your best not to brush up against him so you won’t enrage him, you hear his voice. It’s just one sentence, four words, but for some reason it sounds so much more human than it did when he was opposite you. Maybe it has something to do with the distance between his helmet and your ear, maybe it’s the angle from which the sounds hit your eardrums or maybe it’s because you feel light-headed, dizzy with the realization he hasn’t killed you yet and probably won’t.

He says, “Have it your way.”

You stop right next to him, staring ahead at a group of three men who do their best not to look at you. But you don’t see them anyway. In fact, you don’t see anything at all because the rushing sound in your ears drowns out everything else, even other senses.

“You can come with me,” he says, and it’s the first time he has spoken two sentences in a row. “But you do as I say.” Three. “If I tell you to run, you run.” Four. “If I tell you to get out of the way, you do so.” Five. “And if I tell you to kill, you kill.” Six.

Then nothing, just the faint sound of his deep breaths through the modulator.

Your thoughts are racing, tripping over their own feet like children running down a hill, and they’re unbearably loud. Everything is loud suddenly, from the sound of the barkeep filling a glass to the way that woman over there is chewing her food. The only thing that’s quiet is the last one you would have suspected to be so: the Mandalorian. Now he is waiting for you to say something and as he does, he balls his hand into a fist and then releases the tension again, over and over like a nervous tic, like he needs an outlet for the tension in his body, the tension you have no idea he is feeling until you see his arm flex beneath the fabric covering it.

But, once more, you’re at war with yourself. You don’t know what to tell him. There is still that shimmer of hope on the horizon, the light that makes you believe you stand a chance if you bring him along. But his terms … you’re not sure if you can accept them. He doesn’t know Alvorine or the men you would be hunting half as well as you do. And you’ve never been one for following orders. So if you feel that his assessment of a situation is wrong, you’re not sure you’ll be able to run just because he tells you to.

You have a feeling that defying his orders would be the most dangerous thing you could ever do, even more dangerous than hunting down a group of ruthless bandits who like to torture and kill for fun.

“All right,” you say finally.

His fist unclenches one last time and he exhales slowly.

“But when we find them,” you swallow hard, once, but your mouth is completely dry, “I get to decide what happens to them.”

The Mandalorian turns toward you so abruptly that you almost lose your balance. You lean back and hit your elbow on the wall behind you. The pain makes you curse under your breath.

“Agreed,” he whispers. He sounds like a machine again, as if everything that makes him human is shut away beneath that cold, hard, invaluable beskar steel. You too feel cold suddenly, cold and afraid. “But until then you do as I say. Understood?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. He is too close to you, and drowns out everything else, even the sounds that you considered to be too loud mere seconds ago. If he wouldn’t be wearing a helmet, you would be able to feel his breath on your cheek. He takes up your field of vision almost entirely. You’ve never felt more on display, and yet more hidden. And you know that if you say the wrong thing now, it will have terrible consequences.

So you just nod again.

“We leave in the morning,” he tells you, then turns around suddenly and leaves, his cape trailing behind him.

All sounds come rushing back at once, as if you’ve just emerged out of a pool of water. You release your breath quickly, only now realizing you’ve been holding it. Then you slump back against the wall, a shaking, quivering mess.

***

tag list: @bella-ciao, @filthybookworm, @frannyzooey, @khalysa, @leannawithacapitala, @mothandpidgeon, @mrsparknuts, @mxsamwilson, @piscespussybabe, @something-tofightfor

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #star wars #din djarin #pedro pascal #fanfic #the hunt fic #yes i've queued this #yes i'm asleep right now #and yes i'm too much of a coward

303 notes · View notes

bazzybelle · 3 years

Text

Magical Equality Within The World of Mages

I’ve been thinking a lot since I finished reading Any Way The Wind Blows, and there are SO many things that I still need to process. I took my time with reading it, I’ve listened to the audiobook and I plan on re-reading it several times, once I move into my new house and have THAT stress done and over with. I cannot wait to re-read it on my back porch with some iced tea and a notebook to annotate and comment on pretty much everything that gave me feelings.

But for now, there is one massive issue that I want to address, and it plays into the plot for all three books.

Warning for those who have not read Any Way The Wind Blows, this post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution. I am tagging this appropriately, but adding an extra warning just in case.

Huge thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for reading this over and making sure I didn't sound like a rambling mess.

The World of Mages is an incredibly toxic place! This is especially true for anyone who isn’t a magical powerhouse, or stupid rich.

I’m going to not focus on the obvious socio-economic bullshit, because I’m not familiar enough with the British class system to properly comment on it. But if anyone wants to add onto this with a whole meta like that, please do so!

Instead, I’m going to focus on magic use and how detrimental it can be to grow up in this world if you aren’t one of the few who are blessed with the RIGHT kind of magic (I say right kind of magic for a reason, and I’m going to come back to that). I want to focus my attention on three characters (two of whom were drawn into Smith-Richard’s fake promises, and one who was just fed up with it all): Martin Bunce, Daphne Grimm, and Agatha Wellbelove.

1) Martin Bunce: We first hear about Martin Bunce in Carry On. He’s Penny’s dad, a renowned scholar and is leading a team researching the effects of the Insidious Humdrum. He’s a highly respected individual, in his own right. Penny adores him, she only speaks his praises, and I get the feeling she gets along better with Martin, then she does with Mitali. When Penny needs help with Shep’s curse, she trusts her dad to help her after her mother flat out refuses.

While Martin is respected in the community, he isn’t a magical powerhouse. In fact, he isn’t very powerful at all. Baz makes a cheeky little comment about how he must have come from mundanity with a name like “Bunce”, and he doesn’t teach any magical classes at Watford, he focuses mainly on Linguistics.

Professor Bunce is one of the people taken in by Smith-Richard’s message, and I’m kind of glad he is. It shows that Smith-Richard’s message can reach anyone, even someone as scholarly and learned as Martin. Martin Bunce is intelligent, loving, devoted, and the apple of his family’s eye. But, when push comes to shove, all that does not matter because in the end, he isn’t as magically powerful as his wife and kids. How many times has Martin been compared to his wife? How many times has he been compared to his kids? What was it like going to Watford and having to hear about how you barely scraped by in the magical classes? His whole family is obsessed with magic, his daughter's best friend is the Most Powerful Mage. Martin is constantly surrounded by people making comments about power and magic and being strong enough as a magician.

That stuff stays with you... So when you see someone performing magic that can pull you to your full potential, of COURSE you grab onto it and hope that it’s a real thing.

Something interesting to note here; Towards the end of AWTWB, Martin casts a drinking spell, and Baz makes a comment about anyone who could cast that spell in quick succession doesn’t need a power-up. Now, was Martin truly not powerful, or did he just not have the right type of magic? Could he have been a better magician if he was able to find the right situations where his magic responded better? If he was allowed to learn in a way where his magic could have reached its full potential, without the use of a horrible curse?

I have a teaching background, and I’ve worked with a lot of kids in Inclusive Education. I’ve had to differentiate practically all of my lesson plans so that all the kids in my classroom would understand the lesson and be able to reach the goals outlined for them. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve taught, but I look at stuff like this in the World of Mages and my teaching ear perks up.

2) Agatha Wellbelove: Another person who comes to mind, especially with not having the right kind of magic is Agatha Wellbelove. Agatha does not see herself as a very strong magician. She tells Simon that magic for her is like holding a muscle. Pair that up with a mother who is OBSESSED with magic and power and who’s got the most power, and which magical matches will bring about powerful children, and you get someone who becomes resentful of the whole effing thing! I’m not even going to touch the whole “dating the Chosen One” thing because that’s a whole other can of worms.

When we first meet Agatha, she’s already fed up with magic, and wants nothing to do with it, and I can’t say I blame her. She spends all of Wayward Son running away from magic, and meandering through life, being still so unsure of herself and of her place in the world. She calls herself a poor excuse for a magician, yet she manages to save both herself and Penny from the NowNext by summoning fire! That’s a huge flipping deal! Not everyone can do that, yet Agatha is able to summon the power inside herself to do so! Imagine the wonderful magic she could have done if she was taught in a way that spoke to her.

In AWTWB, she is the ONLY person who is able to get through to the Goats. Her magic seems to be connected to nature (if I had to guess). The Dryad, all the way back in Carry On, tells Simon that she and the others find Agatha “peaceful”. That’s her magic. Agatha was able to come full circle by finding peace with the magic she has. She was able to find a place for it. What’s sad is that she felt the need to run away and not want to have it in her life anymore. Her magic is beautiful, yet not enough.

3) Daphne Grimm: So, this is the character that stood out to me the most. Daphne is the reason I even wanted to write this commentary. Those of you who know me, know that I adore this character. Partly because, I’m obsessed with the idea that Baz has people looking out for him and who care about him.

Anyway, Ms. Daphne Grimm is the apple of my eye essentially. I love her, I adore her, and she is treated SO UNFAIRLY by the World of Mages.

What do we know about Daphne? She is Baz’s stepmum, and has four kids with Malcolm. From the first book, there are snarky little comments about Daphne’s lack or power and magic. Baz himself makes a shitty comment about how Daphne’s “blood is as thin as gruel”, even though Daphne goes out of her way to make sure he’s got food sent to his room. She’s extra careful in making sure Baz feels safe in his own home. She suggests to Malcolm that Baz should see a therapist for everything he’s been through, making her the ONLY parent who not only acknowledges her child’s trauma, but tries to do something about it!

She is a GOOD mom!

Ok, we know that Baz wears a ton of masks of indifference in Carry On, and he softens up tremendously in Wayward Son, calling her lovely while teaching him to drive a car.

We learn a lot about Daphne in Any Way The Wind Blows. Namely that Fiona has some pretty nasty opinions about her. (That comment about her kids not being legitimate, and that she’s as “thick headed as she is thin blooded”. Now, imagine you’re Daphne, and the widower of the Great Natasha Pitch asks to marry you. That’s already some MASSIVE shoes to fill. You accept, and you do the best you can, taking care of his son and being a positive presence in his life, meanwhile going to all these posh functions where EVERYONE talks about power and magic. Then to have the sister of your husband’s first wife make snarky comments about your level of power and magic.

That stuff sticks with you.

Daphne doesn’t want her kids going to Watford, the ONLY magical school in the UK (as far as we know). She wants her children to succeed and be known for everything they are capable of doing, instead of being ridiculed for all the ways they’ll come up short. According to Baz, the only reason Daphne graduated from Watford was because she was smart enough to pass every exam (yet, Fiona still makes snarky comments about her intelligence).

Daphne is well aware of how painful it can be to live in the World of Mages and not be a powerhouse magician. Like Martin, she takes matters into her own hands and seeks out a way to make herself more powerful.

It is heartbreaking to look at these three amazing, beloved characters, and think about the suffering they have had to endure by their peers. Both Daphne and Martin get frustrated when those around them question their choice to follow Smith-Richards, stating “you don’t know what it’s like”. Luckily for Daphne, Baz makes an effort to actually understand her, and doesn’t judge her. Even when Fiona mocks her, Baz defends his stepmum. When Daphne berates herself and compares herself to Natasha, Baz reflects on how Natasha would have killed him (something Daphne would NEVER do to any of her children).

We know that Watford did not allow magical creatures, or differently-abled magicians (I use this term for a reason) to study there until the Mage came around and allowed everyone into Watford. This was a great thing, because now, every magical child was given the opportunity to learn how to speak with magic.

However, it should not have stopped there. I spoke earlier on differentiation and on finding the right place for everyone’s magic. What if magicians like Martin, and Daphne, and Agatha are all powerful in their own right, and they just haven’t found their place where their magic fits? Instead of finding the right way to teach these magicians, they are left to struggle and ultimately resent their magic and the magic of the world around them.

Do I hear a social commentary on the state of standardized education? I can’t really comment on the British Educational System, nor the American one, as I am Canadian. What I can say, from my own experience in Canadian classrooms, is that for all the talk we do on making education inclusive, there is still a big push from higher ups for high grades and standardized testing. If any of my followers are British or American and care to share your two cents, feel free to do so. Let’s keep the conversation going!

I think this post might have gotten away from me. I think my point was to act as a defense for people like Daphne and Martin who found themselves fished into a scam all for the promise of feeling like they are enough in their world. I also wanted to defend people like Agatha, who did all she could to run away from all of it, only to find the place where she (and her magic) belonged.

I remember having this discussion on Discord, and one of the points that came up was that maybe The Greatest Threat to the World of Mages was this deeply ingrained prejudice over magicians with different sorts of magic. Magicians who need that extra bit of help to find their way.

We’ve seen in this series how these prejudices can threaten to split the World of Mages apart, and it looks like magicians like Penny, Baz, and Agatha are learning from these mistakes. Only time (and us fanfiction writers) will tell how they end up shaping their world for the future generations.

#any way the wind blows spoilers #awtwb spoilers #meta #is it though?#I mean I GUESS #the simon snow trilogy #the simon snow series #magical equality #the world of mages #this is really just a defense for Daphne

134 notes · View notes

tamagochiie · 3 years

Text

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader

synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.

Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…

tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of this series! i’m very excited to start this, and i hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as well! i got the idea from a manga i was binge reading a while back, so the themes and a few of the plot points are different, but as it progresses, i’ve made it my own.

anyway, happy christmas! see you next week!

master list

life as she’s known it >>

You notice the subtle clench of Kenma's jaw beneath the warm glow of the hallway's light. His hooded gaze strained by hours upon hours of gaming meets your wavering grin. The gears in his head are turning very slowly, and since silence has fallen upon the atmosphere of your shared apartment, you can actually hear the little squeaks as your poor boyfriend tries to fathom the sight before him.

You have quite a knack for bringing peculiar things home without permission; the little frog you adopted on the side of the road during your commute home one stormy night, the mud pie your nephew made for you that stunk the entire apartment for weeks because you didn't have the heart to throw it away—at least not immediately; and the dinner you brought home from the self-proclaimed "legitimate" kebab restaurant that resides in the sketchier side of the city.

All quirky things that Kenma had accepted and grown used to.

But this? This was so far from the bar you had set for his expectations, he can't help but wonder if you're pulling a prank, or maybe even actually committing a crime. But the glint of guilt and sorrow painting so deep into your face tells him otherwise.

Oh, how the poor gamer wishes it was a prank.

You swallow your fear, forcing it all the way down to the pit of your stomach. You've practiced all you've needed to say in the ride home, but all you can manage is stuttering, "I-I can..I can explain," in rather hushed tone.

There goes all my practice, you think to yourself.

Kenma raises a brow, still peering at you with the driest expression. The child in your arms begins to weigh heavier than the pressure placed upon your chest.

Ah, he just might break up with me after this...

"This is—uh, this one behind me is Eiji—Ejij say hi." The young boy behind you bows shyly, his greeting softer than a whisper it feels like you imagined it. "And this little one—sleeping soundly—this one's Yuki..."

Kenma blinks away at your words, face unamused. You regret not even trying to bring home some cake. Maybe if you did, he wouldn't be so...upset? Is he upset or is it just his face again? You can never really tell.

You huff, quietly jumping to the harsh conclusion this'll be the moment he ends things with you. But you won't go down without at least a little fight.

"Look," You sigh, shifting your hold beneath Yuki's tiny bum so he doesn't slip away, "They needed a place to stay, and no one was willing to take them!" Your lips fall dry and the more you speak, the more your words come out strained. "In a room full of people who—who called themselves your family for so many years fall silent the moment they needed help! No one spoke up to help them! It was so bad, Kenma! I-If you were there you—"

You bite your tongue, catching yourself before you're swept away by the current of your rage.

A deep, shaky sigh escapes him. His eyes finally tearing away from you as he cranes his head back, seemingly accepting his temporary defeat. "Let them sleep in the spare room and we'll talk after," is the only thing Kenma says to you before turning around walking away.

The constricting feeling in your chest eases and you sigh in relief. You mentally high five yourself for your momentary win before twisting your gaze over your shoulder to look at the young boy towering over you, motioning him to follow you.

You never noticed how wide the apartment actually is. Maybe its because of the emptying feeling you were left with back in the hallway, but it all seems so eerily wide. Like, what are two people doing with such a big space?

He'll definitely break up with me after this.

There's still a lingering prickly feeling in your heart; a mixed emotion of a win and a loss. You try your best to prepare yourself for whatever the outcome may be, but deep inside you're already prepared for a break up.

The young boy trails behind you all the way into the bedroom, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

You switch the lights on, revealing a room big enough for more than just two kids. A desk on the side, a king size bed at the center, and a window with a good view of the city. It was usually the room Hinata crashed whenever he came back from traveling with his team, but he hadn't been here in months. Traces of him were left in the form of dust.

"Will this be good enough for now?" You ask Eiji as you shrug Yuki's backpack to the floor before making your way over to the bed.

His head is lowered, eyes still failing to meet yours. He's been like this since you pulled them from under the gossiping gaze of your family.

Family, you think. The word seems so meaningless now.

"When someone speaks to you, you ought to look at them," You say it with a genuine smile, hoping that the little warmth you have left in your heart radiates off you and onto him.

God knows he needs it more than you.

"Y-yes, you're right. Thank you." He stammers, "I'm-I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude—"

"Hey," You say, gently cutting him off as you hold your smile. He's still as soft and shy as the day you first met him. You can't help but smile at the thought that he never changed. "I'm not mad or anything...Its just a teaching moment. Remember it."

You watch as Eiji slowly shifts his gaze away from the floor, slowly raising his head to meet your eyes."There you go. You've got pretty eyes, you shouldn't hide them."

He hums a quiet thank you before turning around and shifting his attention to his backpack. You take care of the little one still hanging onto you, pressing a kiss onto his little forehead and rubbing his back before settling him down onto the bed.

You're careful not to stir him as you slip his shoes off. You tuck him in, brushing his hair away from his face to reveal his long lashes and puffy eyes.

Ah, there goes the heaviness in your chest again; a recurring feeling for the day. You wonder when it'll end and your heart sinks even deeper when you remember Kenma waiting for you.

Hesitantly, you excuse yourself and make your way to the door. You let Eiji know where the bathroom is and tell him not to be scared to ask you for anything, "Please don't scared," is the last thing you mutter before leaving the boys to rest.

You tiptoe across the living room, down the hall and towards your shared bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet whispering, "You've done it now", "You've crossed the line", and "He's definitely going to yell at you".

You clench the knob of your bedroom door. The thumping of your heart deafens your ears and your throat grows too dry for you to swallow your fear.

You shut your eyes and pray to the deities, hoping for a good outcome—hoping for any outcome than the one you're expecting.

It takes a moment—five minutes to be exact—but you muster a sliver of courage to push the door open. For some odd reason, you imagined Kenma would be sitting at the edge of the bed, silently brewing in his anger. But instead, he's on the floor, knees up to his chest as he fiddles with his Switch.

And you can't tell if you're annoyed or relieved.

You shut the door behind you before joining him on the floor. You keep your head down, picking off your nail polish while you wait.

Kenma pauses his game, setting it down to the side before completely leaning against the bed, lulling his head back to take a breath. You shut your eyes and you take a deep breath when you feel him shifting in his place to face you.

Here it is. He's going to yell at me, you think.

"What are you plotting?" He asks, not a single trace of irritation found in his voice but rather sheer curiosity dripping from his words. You keep your head down and eyes shut. "You ought to look at someone when they're speaking to you," Your name rolls off his tongue playfully, covered in nothing more than love and sincerity.

You peak an eye at him, lifting your head. "You're not gonna to yell at me?"

"When have I ever yelled at you?" His face contorts in judgement and a little concern, wondering if his girlfriend's broken or just completely stupid. "Why would I yell at you now?"

"I brought home two stray kids..."

"Yes, you did," He says matter-of-factly, "and we need to talk about that. So, can we please talk about that?"

You nod slowly, bringing your knees up to your chest before turning your whole body to face him.

Kenma sinks his elbow onto the end of the bed, cupping his chin for support before he speaks, “Who are those kids and why did you bring them home?"

Kenma looks at you directly, his face emotionless, but a bit softer compared to when you were first standing in the hallway. He blinks at you, waiting patiently till you're ready to speak.

"They were my cousin's kids," You say in a strained whisper. "The—The one that died in the accident." Kenma hums in response, signaling you to keep going. "We weren't close—as you know or else you would've heard a lot more about him—but we felt close enough...given what our family's like..."

Growing up with the kind of family you had and having met everyone from your extended family was kind of like living in a block of ice that never melted; solid in their beliefs, slippery with their anger, and had no room for any other emotion.

You made this very clear to Kenma when you first started dating, especially when he had asked to meet your family. He wasn't one to socialize or even initiate it, but he would do it if it meant doing it for you. But you turned the idea down fast, warned him that there'd be no reason to have to go through all that stress just for you; and though he was just as stubborn as you, Kenma gave in and never brought it up again when he saw how upset you had gotten.

But in chest full of ice cubes, there was your cousin, Akihiro-san. Like you, he was different. He wasn't cold, but he was so genuine and real, you couldn't help but doubt his kindness.

A kindness you failed return when he needed it most. So, when you saw your moment of opportunity, you snatched it, regrettably leaving your boyfriend as an afterthought to your decision.

"I owe it to him, Kenma..." You plead in whisper. "I owe to him because he was the only one who was ever nice to me..."

"These are kids," He counters, dipping his head to meet your glossy eyes. He takes your cheek into the palm of his hand, his thumb tracing circles over your skin. "This would be different if it were a puppy or a plant—but these are living and breathing kids and we know nothing about raising kids. My love, we're only in our twenties..."

"But—"

"You should've called first." He cuts you off, his tone still soft , but firm. You’re at least grateful he’s called you your pet name. "You should've called me and asked."

"You would've said no..."

"How do you know? You never called me." There isn't resentment in Kenma's words. Its still playful and light, but you can feel his hurt and you feel dumb because you know exactly why. "I would've liked to have been included in this decision...especially since this is my home and you are my girlfriend, and you promised that we would make decisions together."

You frown, tears brimming to the surface as you realized what you've done and how you've probably made him feel.You denied him of his choice, and you were silly to believe that it was okay to go over his head and behind his back.

As you whisper a string of apologies, Kenma presses his forehead onto yours, smiling at you. He was angry at first, but not so much anymore.

"Are you going to break up with me?" You sniffle, voice breaking at the thought. "I'd understand if you wanted to break up with me...But I just—I really wanted to help them. I'm so sorry I didn't ask you first, I couldn't just leave them—"

"Shhh," His breath fans against your skin, "I'm not breaking up with you, stupid. Given, this is probably the biggest wild card you've thrown at me by far, but its not enough for me to break up with you."

You hide your face into dip of his neck, sobbing into the material of his sweater, letting go of the strength you had from holding back and stain it with your tears. You had always been reckless, but it never turned him off. He never raised his voice, he always heard you out, and even when you slipped up, he always forgave you in a heartbeat.

It makes you question if you’re deserving of such a love as this.

“I was very angry and very offended,” Kenma begins, “I didn’t like what you did. It made me feel like you couldn’t trust me, and it made me feel like you saw me as some kind of terrible person that would turn away kids that need a home...”

You shake your heard, muttering a “no” to his assumption.

Kenma runs his fingers through your hair and down to your back, soothing you until you've caught your breaths. He'll soft press his lips against the crown of your head, discreetly swiping the little sweat off his lips to keep you from being offended.

"S-So, what do we do about the kids?" Your question muffled but Kenma can hear you just fine.

He sighs, and as he's about to pull you away from his chest, you tighten your hold around his waist. "Please look at me," Your shoulders fall and you pout when you come face to face with him. He chuckles at how ridiculously childish you look, "Do you really want to do this?"

Your eyes widen, "Y-yes. I want to do this, but if you don't want—"

"Better us than anyone else, right?" You blink at him, processing. "I don't know shit about kids, but if you really want to do this, I'll support you. But you can't expect me to be good at this."

Kenma falls onto your shoulder and rests all his weight onto you, letting out a sigh. Panic envelopes his heart, his stomach flipping and churning as he stresses over all the things that's yet to come.

“We’ve been dating for four years, and I’ve just only gotten the hang of you now...” He admits in a heavy sigh.

I'm still a kid, he thinks, groaning. He's plays games all day, forgets to shower, and doesn't know how to cook either. He works from home, rarely goes out unless he needs to or if you want to. Out of the both of you, you're--surprisingly-- more put together than he is.

Can he really do this?

"Please don't expect much from me," He begs, "I don't do well with kids, and you even took in a grown one. What if it doesn't like me or if it forget to feed it?"

You chew on your lip, holding back a laugh and quietly smile to yourself. Vulnerability paints well on your boyfriend, and you wish for even more moments like this.

“I promise it’ll only be until we kind find some other arrangement for them...Something better." You’re not entirely confident in your words, but you understand the idea of having them stay with you isn’t the most sound solution.

"I suppose if we mess up, we'll mess it up together." He says in defeat, sprawling his legs open before wrapping it around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. He cradles your body tightly just as Yuki had done. "You don't understand how unbelievably lucky you are that I love you."

353 notes · View notes

xchoco-mixturex · 2 years

Text

A joke that ends up....Badly but good?

“When a high class young woman tries to play a joke on her beloved partner and friend, it takes a drastic turn....for the better?”

Summary: Kuon wants to tease her friend a bit with a silly joke in her mind. Turns out it will have a unexpected turn...For the better?

Shipping: Yes. It has Kuniper, IN BOLD, FOR PETES SAKE--

Tags: Fluff, a bit of comedy, yes.

Spoilers?: YES! THERE ARE MANGA SPOILERS! (implied...lets hope, since the manga has been out for so long for me its kinda there.)

Authors note: Spite is a great factor. Multichapter? I...don't know. I’m writing because spite is great(?. I’m having a headache, I'm not proofreading because at this point I don't care and also I'm not a native speaker so, meh. I wrote this for myself.

PS: yes i know i promised a yunise fanfic, but that one is long as heck.

“Sorry Kuon. I...you know I am with phones.” He sighed.

“I cannot believe, you didn’t answered the call, Yuu!”

A pouting blue haired young woman was sitting on a bench, pouting, as she was slowly stirring her cup of tea. In front of him there was a man in a white shirt, black pants, nervously scratching his neck a bit. Unlike his usual self, he left his fedora on the side of the table.

“I wont say it wasn't that important, because maybe it wasn't important like a matter of fact, but it was quite important for me. I was excited for that movie.” She sighed, sadness on her voice

“I know, I know...”

A misunderstanding, yes, but...It ended up making her feel a bit sad. At least his company made her happy, since he was very important for her.

Kuon sipped her up of tea, silence on the table was present. On her part, she was still a bit stuck on that event that went wrong. On the forcer sniper’s mind, he used to fell silent when he was trying to find a way to amend stuff he knows he has done wrong. Of course, he knew she understands, but....Still doesn’t make him stop feeling sad.

She was dear for him too! As...Much as he hated to admit it and how he was adamant to act like he didn’t cared at all.

Kuon rested her cup of tea on her plate, when suddenly, a silly idea came to her mind. An idea that Yuri told her long ago.

“Kuon! He tends to be a little bit forgetful or clumsy, as much as he doesn't want to admit it due his cool façade. Maybe you can startle him out a bit with a tease...or a joke!” She remembered the black haired girl smiling mischievously towards her.

“And...What do you suggest?” Kuon was so confused back then.

“I don’t know...Ask him for a date! Knowing him he may open his eyes like plates and he wouldn't be able to keep that façade for a moment. It would be fun to see.”

“Um...”

It wasn't her style at all. Yes, she used to joke with him after a while being close with each other and all, but...To tease him with a date? She knew he could be quite cold and harsh like he was at the beginning with her. Maybe he would react the same...

....But oh, well, here goes nothing.

“Hey...Yuu?” Kuon eyes him for a second. The black haired man snapped out from his thoughts and stared at her.

“Yes?”

“You...Really regret not answering?”

“Of course I do! I am not heartless!” He raised a brow. “You know that! I just...I am...Stubborn, and, a bit cold, but...Not heartless.” He folded his arms.

What a weird question, he thought. He knows Kuon knows him pretty well and that she knew he would feel sorry. Yes he was cold at her first, but...He wasn’t cold!

...Right?

“Oh shit--” The mind of the former sniper suddenly went blank at the thought maybe....just maybe, Kuon thinks he doesn’t care?!

No! not at all! He does care! Or so he tries to show it! Right? I mean, he knew Rika always nagged him to stop being so harsh and to stop being so poker-faced, and that repressing how he feels is wrong and he should open up a little and--

“Fuck me gently with a chains-- She is mad-- no, she is hurt! Well of course she is hurt! She was excited for that movie, she said it herself!”

His face went pale a little, and then he darted his eyes away. What it was happening in a second, for him it was like an eternity of his thought rumbling and mushing in his head, overthinking like he knows his family tends to do: his father and brother were the same.

“Kuon I swear to God I am so--”

“Then maybe we could have a date.”

The socialite was eyeing at him, with a confident smile, resting her chin on her hands, as her elbows rested on the table itself. She tilted her head slightly to the side, to decorate her smile a bit more. She might be looking confident, but internally she was trembling.

Unknown to Yuuka, she has been crushing on him since day 1!

And the latter, well...He was in total shock. It was like Yuu’s brain suddenly stopped making synapsis. He stared at her, directly to her eyes, yet his eyes were totally blank. She just asking him on a date. He was not expecting that. He was totally taken aback and off guard.

It was a success for Kuon! Yuri was right! He was puzzled as heck! The socialite was celebrating internally. Enough happiness for her, his face was adorable, according to her, when he expressed more emotions.

“Haha! you should see your face, Yuu--” She giggled, trying to hold her laughter. ‘You are totally--”

But what came after her supposed joke, was...totally unexpected.

“Okay.”

“...Pardon me?”

“I said I am okay.”

“...With?”

“The date.”

He was...Deadly serious. She knows his face when he is totally serious. And THAT was his face, right know, he had THE face. Yuuka rarely jokes, and when he does, is not about that.

He was serious, of course! This was the chance! She was sad! He wanted to mend it. And Kuon’s proposal was just what he needed. The perfect push for him to mend his mistake.

She was a genius! Of course she knows him, she knows for him is a bit difficult to come with something! Specially since she is a socialite: he didn't wanted to disturb her! So for her to bring up that idea: perfect!

...So why was she so shocked?

“Uh...Kuon? Why you look so pale?” He was now confused.

“No! I’m fine! Totally.”

“You are not. You suck at lying, I know when you lie.” He raised a brow. “Did I disturbed you?”

“No! I mean, I was...so...taken aback.”

“Well, you came with the idea.” He stated the obvious.

“Mostly as a joke!” She laughed a bit nervously as she scratched her neck.

“You...Don’t want to?” Weird. Suddenly at the possibility of her regretting it made him...Sad.

“No! I want to go out with you!” She blurted, louder than she expected it to be.

“Oh...” He felt his ears a bit warm along with his cheeks. She was too honest and direct sometimes. “S-So...?” He scoffed. “Sorry, I stuttered. I mean, anywhere in special you wanna go? I want to mend the mistake I did so...You can choose the place.”

She couldn't believe what was happening. It started as a joke, and now she has a date...With her crush.

She wanted to squeal and scream and call Yuri and hug her and Mayuko and roll on her bed, but, no! She must act dignified! She did not wanted to squeal in front of Yuu. She is a Shinzaki! She must act like one! As her father told her...

But now not time for think on more and more formalities, she had to answer his question!

“Uh...S-So there is a little festival where people would be selling craftsmanship of theirs...And...Father never allowed me to those stuff and he is on China due business for a while so...” She was a bit nervous. “And there is street food too...And they look nice...”

Each word she spoke was softer and softer and more quiet than the other. It was just...So unexpected and surreal for her.

“That’s a good plan.” He smiled slightly at her. “Tomorrow? At 4 pm? You don’t mind? I can pick you up on the car.”

“Sure! I will tell the butler about it just in case."

“Okay! It is settled then.”

It is happening. Kuon Shinzaki just settled a date with her crush, the former Sniper mask, aka, Yuuka Makoto. And she wanted to scream it to the sky for the joy she was feeling.

But instead of that, she paid the bill for both of them due her happiness. She didn’t care to pay Yuu some stuff. He used to invite her too with his money. As much as Yuu offered her to drop her back, she insisted she would call her driver-- mostly because she needed to scream at the car.

They bid each other farewell, but not before Kuon hugging him a bit. He wasn’t used to people to hug him, Kuon being the exception, so he hugged her back as gently as he could. When the driver came to pick her up, he just waved goodbye and walked back at the Honjo house, since he went to the cafe they were by feet after the movie fiasco.

He walked away, slowly at first, his face bearing a smirk at the successful plan that came for the day after. Then he started feeling his legs a little bit shaky and decided to walk faster, and faster, and then he was running, at the slightly realization his mind has flashed to him.

....This was his first date in years. And not only that, past dates were not dates for him, he wasn't interested, and when he went, he left like half an hour after and did it mostly by compromise.

This one was serious. And he had zero experience.

His cool façade was gone, instead he was quite nervous. He just make sure to not trip on his way to the Honjo house, or to drop the keys from his pocket as he pulled his keys out to enter the house, since Rika gave him a copy.

Once he opened the door, he just slammed it against the wall, entered in, and shut it as strong as he opened it.

Rika was resting on the couch, staring at him, quite annoyed. He shut his manga closed and he huffed.

“Yuu-chan, the fuck? The doo--”

To only be interrupted by Yuuka’s grasp on his shoulder and his face being as pale as he just have seen a ghost.

“Rika. Help. I have a date with Kuon. Tomorrow. And my experience is NULL!”

The older Honjo just stared at him as shocked as Yuuka was. What did he just did?! He was an idiot! How did he accepted?!

“Wait, what?! When? How? Do you regret it?!” He was trying to understand.

“A date, tomorrow, it happened today, and no, I don't.”

He answered his questions.

“But I don’t want to make myself a fool! Much less in front of her?! I acted cool as fuck and I know I am, but this is an area I don’t know. And I'm dating pretty much the heiress of one of the most powerful families IN JAPAN.”

“Oh, God.” Rika slowly put his open palm over his face.

This...Will be hard.

But nothing is too hard for the Sniper Mask...

Maybe.

(to be continued, maybe)

#choco writes #im spiteful #people made me mad #here bon apetit #or however is spelt #kuniper #sunakuon #ts fanfic #high rise invasion #tenkuu shinpan #sky high survival

20 notes · View notes

demonicheadcanons · 3 years

Text

The Problem With Trusting A Human

Spoilers for lessons up to and including lesson 16!

CW for: Angst, Blood, Being Injured / Attacked, Death and Trauma Mentions, Violence, and more. Please ask me to tag anything else!!

Honestly, Belphegor wasn’t sure what he was expecting. How long had it been since he’d had a human come looking for him, and how much longer since he’d intentionally tried to lure one? It was easy to throw his voice, to tempt them and eat at their curiosities, and of course this human exchange student was no different. In fact, they seemed even more inclined to listen to him and come searching with no resistance at all, even with Lucifer himself so violently blocking their path.

But there you were, standing outside the attic with a wary and horrified look on your face, as concerned as you were distrustful. Belphie probably looked as pathetic to you as you did to him, locked away in the House of Lamentation of all places, in the attic where no one was allowed to come search and where your path was blocked multiple times when you’d tried to come here before. Maybe you’d fallen for it, when Lord Diavolo preached of creating peace, but surely even as a human you weren’t so foolish as to believe all demons would be working towards his goal; not even all of the brothers would be, after all. But to think! Diavolo’s right hand man, Lucifer, was keeping a prisoner captive in the same house you were staying in.

Whatever is racing through your mind comes to a halt as you ask if he’s okay, if he’s been trapped for long. And finally, about what he is. Maybe you could sense it, the difference between you and him, or even the seething hatred he was only just able to conceal with his powers. It was taking so much energy to appear harmless and peaceful; demons were just too different from humans. They could blend in only so much before a human came along who could feel it, the way the air turned cold and they shivered, gut twisting and skin prickling as if the spirits lost to the air were reaching out to touch it. You could be one of those humans, one who could sense that difference.

Or maybe not, because you settled relatively quickly. You didn’t trust him, of course; it would take longer than one conversation for that. But you come time and time again, and relax a little more as Belphegor feeds you small truths and sweet lies, using the knowledge Lucifer has been feeding him to convince you of his innocence as he bleeds lies into fact, things you can’t refute because you’d seem them happening.

You soon discover one of his lies, and through Beel of all people. He wasn’t human, after all, but the seventh brother. Still, even as you tell him you can’t trust him, there’s pity in your eyes and a pain in your chest, and he knows he’s won. It was boring waiting, horrifying that the only company he had was the older brother who locked him away and a human just out of his reach whom he desperately wanted to crush. He could shatter your bones with a flick of his hand if he wished, but his plans were too big for that, so instead he settled for watching you sit closer and closer to the locked door each time you visited, and listening to your voice as you told him what his brothers were up to.

Things change when you show up and sit as far away as maybe the first week. Or the second one? Belphie had lost track; it was hard to measure time passing in the Devildom anyway, where the night stretched on for eternity and he slept too irregularly to bother with counting days. Your voice breaks Belphie out of his daydreams. Its weak and shaky, and there are drops of blood on the carpet where you’d passed to get to your hiding place.

How misguided of you to try and hide it from a demon. Belphie could smell the fear as if he were a hound trained to do just that. Past that, there are traces of anger, of another demon he couldn’t place and oh, so much blood. The day’s events were trapped in the air and would be irregardless of what you tried to do, and you were blind to it. But Belphegor wasn’t, and he was starting to put the pieces together already, made easier when you came closer to his cage to check on him.

It was satisfying and frustrating at once. Someone had done what he’d been hoping to do, they attacked you and put you back in your place, using fear and pain to guide you there. But something bit at him, swelled in his throat and clogged it, and it only gets thicker when he catches a glimpse of you and you lower your head as if ashamed, smiling through it all. Your arm was already bandaged, but so poorly done that blood was still trickling through in places. He could see torn skin from here, from sharp, sharp claws, and the way you flinched when you accidentally hit a sore spot as you rubbed at your arm to soothe yourself.

His breath catches, and he startles himself as he almost reaches forward, wonders if he should try to redo the bandages through the bars of the attic. He could break your arm in the process, and wouldn’t it ruin his plans? And wouldn’t it get his thoughts across? He feels something that’s foreign but not, something he should know well but has rejected too heavily to place it. Is it you sitting outside the bars? Because its not you he can see, not with that look on your face and the way you curl up into yourself and stare off into the distance, not wanting to bother him or ask for help or comfort.

Belphie almost calls out then, but of course, not to you, because surely you’ve left. Surely its Lilith there in your place, borrowing your smile, laughing as she promises she’s just fine. You weren’t careful enough, you’d made a mistake, but it hadn’t disrupted your plan, you were still going to help him.

Belphie watches as you stop rubbing your arm and hide both hands behind your back, and he barely stops the growl that locks itself in his chest from bubbling up and escaping. There’s blood on your hands, too, right? That’s why you were hiding them from him. Because maybe you didn’t trust him, or maybe you trusted him too much, and expected him to be worried, and he couldn’t do anything about it from the other side of this stupid locked door and god he was going to end Lucifer when he was out of there.

He feels like there are two people standing outside, feels like he’s been here before and knows he hasn’t, because it wasn’t red last time. It was red dripping down onto the carpet and staining it, as much as it wasn’t red that stained her hands and wings when she fell, watching him all the while as if calling out to him, calling him to come after her. Or to stay far, far away and never make the same mistake, and rather to stay safe. Isn’t that what your expression said? Hadn’t you slid further away from him so he wouldn’t come closer, wouldn’t end up hurting like you?

Belphegor doesn’t know what he feels, and when he finally does hiss you only look at him with pathetic sympathy, as if you understood. How could you? How could you know what he was feeling, what was burning up in his chest and fuelling the fire he’d use to end your life the first chance he got, whilst simultaneously trying to douse it?

He can’t bring himself to hide the glare on his face, so instead, he only looks down and stares at the red splatters you’d left on the floor.

171 notes · View notes

oddsnendsfanfics · 3 years

Text

Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.” Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter.

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?"

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born. To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms.

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker."

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

Tag List Chat

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #oddsnendshenryfics

102 notes · View notes

danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet, (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 1.

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel's operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn't seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +2.1k

Series warnings: talks and mentions of misogyny and sexism, cursing, smoking, drinking, eventual sex, cartel shit, watch me make some shit up to fit reader inside the narrative, guns, dea shit, feels, javier actually being a little bit more introspective, just basically me inserting reader into the third season

Chapter warnings: depictions of misogyny and some cursing

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode one. // this has been simmering in the back of my head for way too long, i even made a post about it just trying to ease the weight of my thoughts but my mind keeps racing with more things about this exact story, so here goes nothing. THIS GOES ALONG THE CANON OF THE THIRD SEASON kinda (so yeah, spoilers if you haven’t watched it yet), i actually had to watch it to write this because in the end, you’re a fucking DEA agent baby (also please keep in mind that english is not my native language, im really trying for this to be GOOD)

Read on ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

// next→

You knew you chose a difficult job, hell, a difficult career, you knew you had to prove yourself, your worth and your abilities countless times, at this point it wasn’t even that much of a surprise anymore. Every time you encountered another man in the office or in the field, you had to spend an incredible amount of time first proving you were capable and you knew what you were doing before even getting to work.

Yet you got comfortable in your previous destination, you had a team, you had people to trust and trusted you back, they knew you were more than capable, you didn’t have to tell them to listen to you or your ideas, you didn’t have to ask for anyone’s approval. You were just another agent.

But now you had to do it all over again.

“Shit” you growled, trying to unwrinkle your blazer with one hand, the flight down to Colombia hadn’t been at all gentle to you and you were tired and cold. Your feet were sore, your back was killing you, you were fighting the desire to get rid of your suit skirt and run to put some pants on, everybody was lying when they said Colombia was a hot place, the air was chilly, and the dress suit you were wearing barely provided any meaningful heat, and the fact that nobody went to pick you up at the airport made you even more frustrated. You were still pulling around your suitcase because apparently the embassy is such a fucking mess that not even one person told you where you were going to live yet.

You showed your badge to the guards at the doors and they let you in without much of a look. You walked right through the lobby into the elevator, sighing in relief. Thanks America and its air conditioned buildings.

The elevator doors opened and you walked straight inside of the DEA offices, they were small, cramped and dark, great, just how you liked your work spaces.

“Hi” you said, approaching the small front desk, the receptionist looked up at you and smiled, it was the first smile you saw in a while and that made you feel a little less frustrated, you pulled out the badge again and showed it to her “can you please direct me to the office of Javier Peña?” you asked.

The girl tilted her head to the left in confusion.

“Are you agent Martin?” she said with her thick american accent, you put the badge again in the pocket of your dress pants and nodded to her.

“Yes, is he– is he expecting me?”

“Not really, but agent Feistl is,” she said, pointing to a cornered desk almost in the back where a blond man was sitting, he looked up at the sound of his name and you sighed again.

“Oh, yeah, I talked to him on the phone, thank you,” you said, smiling a bit back to her while you walked around the unoccupied desks in the front of the office “Feistl” you said his name once you reached his desk, stretching out your hand to shake his “agent Martín” you said “it’s nice to meet you” he looked at you, frowning, but took your hand nonetheless and shook it.

“Chris Feistl” he said, a little taken aback and another man approached both of you “this is my partner, Daniel Van Ness” the larger man gave you a single nod and you shook his hand again.

“You’re agent Martin?” Van Ness said.

Here we go again.

“My last name is Martín, first name Florencia” you said, accentuating the í in your last name, inhaling the tension around and making it your own, yet another time “I’m guessing you were expecting a man?” you dropped, they looked at each other “don’t worry, it happens everytime” you finished with a small grin.

They remained silent, looking at you, yet another time you let them, although for a single moment you actually wondered if there was something wrong with the way you looked; you gave a glance to yourself on the elevator walls on your way up and aside from your hair being close to look like a mess you were ok, you take another second to try to analyze the men in front of you, the way they were standing, the expression on their faces, they were shocked that was for sure, but also… relieved? and somehow… happy?.

“Is there anywhere I can put this?” you asked, glancing at the suitcase.

“You came here all the way from the airport?” Feistl asked, you nodded.

“Yeah, no one showed up so I just grabbed a cab” Van Ness snorted and you looked at him. He didn’t say anything, “where’s my desk?” you asked again, starting to feel more frustrated but also a bit amused when again they didn’t say a thing, “you did get the memo that you’d be getting a new person today, right?” you questioned in a huff, a bit louder, looking at them in utter disbelief. Fucking embassy, fucking DEA.

“Is agent Martin here?” you heard your name being called from behind you, the men in front of you just widened their eyes and looked at you.

“That would be me” you announced, turning around, seeing a tall, tanned skin, sweaty man approaching you, “and you must be Javier Peña” you said, allowing yourself to be more assured, stretching your hand again.

“You are agent Martin” he said, making it sound half like a question, half an assertion, looking at you up and down, he put his hands on his hips, not bothering to take your hand.

“Florencia Martín, yes sir” you dropped down your hand and pronounced your last name again, trying to get american people to pronounce your name was hard, and you hoped at least Javier Peña would understand it, yet he said it wrong. He just stood there and you glanced at him discreetly, he, differently from the men behind you, was a walking ball of frustration, you sympathized and tried to read his posture. He was trying to be cocky but his try died in his eyes, he was shocked, surprised and not at all entertained.

“No wonder why I couldn’t find you in the airport” he growled.

“You were also expecting a man” you affirmed, this time, a small hint of disappointment grew inside your stomach “don’t worry, it happens all the time” you repeated roughly. You turned around to your new partners, not caring and ignoring the look your new boss was giving you “my desk?”

Van Ness pointed a small cubicle behind his and Feislt’s big desks, you suppressed a sigh and walked towards the space, still pulling your fucking suitcase, feeling the looks of three men in your back. You were used to this, you had done it countless times, and you knew you weren’t the only woman that has gone through this. But after spending the time you spent in one single place, with the same people, doing the same thing, after having an amazing partner that had believed in you since the day you almost punched the shit out of him on the academy, after having your own office to work with him, after having faced many masculine faces disapproving you being in the same rooms as them while chasing bad guys, after receiving thousands of condescending looks when you said anything, and yet being capable of raise everybody’s expectations, starting it all over again not only sounded hard, it also sounded exhausting.

Javier couldn’t believe his fucking luck when he looked at you. He certainly was expecting a man, Washington only told him so much and he assumed what everyone did when they heard your last name, in the end it was a masculine name. For some reason he felt guilty when you told him you always get that reaction.

He tried to examine you, ever the analyzer, but he got nothing, not from the way you were still standing in front of the ridiculously small cubicle, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor, or the way you kept putting a thin strand of hair behind your ear and it kept falling in front of your right cheekbone, nothing from the way you reached for the manila folder that was waiting to be picked up or the way your fingers moved around the pages. You seemed unreadable to him and he didn’t like that. Not one bit.

You turned around when you felt his stare, he was still just standing there, looking at you.

“Is this really everything I have to be briefed on?” you questioned him lifting the folder in your left hand. He nodded and turned to the right to walk to his office “well fuck that” you murmured under your breath. You heard Van Ness snorting again and looked at him giving you a small smile, maybe you didn’t say that as quietly as you wanted, you gave him half a grin and he shook his head.

You took off your blazer and sat on the incredibly uncomfortable chair.

“Shit” you whispered again.

“Fuck” Javier said under his breath, loosening his tie and crashing into his chair. He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hands and sighed. What the fuck did the people at Washington think. He was after a whole fucking cartel, he didn’t have his trusted partner this time, he was alone and he had to lead a team to do that, he had just lost two agents after they were stupid and reckless going around Cali and they dared to send down one random chick in some sort of replacement that for some reason seemed just so small and frail to him.

He was pretty sure you weren’t due to the fact that you were a DEA agent, but when he looked at you the only thing he could notice was the way your eyes were dimmed, maybe due to the fluorescent lights or the fact that you had flown who-knows how many hours to be there, or the way your hands seemed way too delicate to even handle a gun, or how your body looked breakable to the touch.

He didn’t like the way his mind was forming his thoughts about you, it wasn’t right to think that way of a woman- no, a person- no, an agent he had just met, he just knew it was the macho part in him that saw you that way. He knew that if Washington had sent you all the way down to a god forsaken country fighting an unfair war, you had to be capable to endure it.

Javier scratched his stubble and reached for the thinest folder he had on his desk, it was your file. He grinned when he opened it, unbelieving of the almost non existent amount of information it had about you. It did have your full name, though, so, mistaking you for a guy was indeed his fault, just because he didn’t read the file before.

He browsed through the last locations you had been sent to and raised his eyebrows when he saw the amount of time you’d spent in the last place. No wonder why you were being so reluctant about everything you saw and how you were being treated. He remembered how he felt when he was a newcomer and he remembered what he had to go through with Steve when he first came to the country, it was awful, and even without the language barrier, as your file said you did speak spanish, he assumed you must feel like an outcast. It was never easy, arriving at a place where everything seemed like it belonged there but you.

Javier closed the file and threw it back to the pile of manila folders in front of him. He did have his doubts about you, and surely he was wondering why he had only been sent that joke of a file and nothing else, and he didn’t want to make your stay in Colombia or at the embassy a living hell, but he did want to see what you were able to do, he couldn’t wait for you to show him what you had in you.

That last thought sent him for a bit through a deliciously nasty tangent, and he had to bring himself back to the initial train of thought: you.

You were now his. No– you were now in his team. He was now your boss. He couldn’t think of you in any other way even if sometimes it couldn’t be avoided.

Javier rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, wondering what were you working on before arriving, trying to think what was happening in México that made you stay that long.

And a question was forming in his head… What the hell did you do to be sent to Colombia?

// next→

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier pena fanfic #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #rushingly bittersweet tag

229 notes · View notes